


Sense and Sensitivity

by Archadian_Skies



Series: the heat that drives the light [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Cousins, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Gun Violence, Hostage Situations, Huddling For Warmth, Implied Sexual Content, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Minor Violence, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Recovery, Sharing a Bed, Team as Family, carl is the most embarrassing dad in detroit, he's a cross between the grandmother from mulan and the mother from mean girls, leo manfred redemption side story i guess, pl600s are temperature sensitive, something something simon needs cuddles to regulate temperature
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-07-20 15:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 92,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16140431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/pseuds/Archadian_Skies
Summary: The PL600, once hailed as the most advanced CyberLife domestic android, is now considered obsolete; too empathetic, too fragile, too slow, too sensitive. Simon knows he's broken in more ways than one, and the sharp cold Michigan nights do nothing but aggravate his already struggling temperature regulators. Luckily for him, the warm Manfred Manor has plenty of space for another guest.Meanwhile with the imminent return of Detroit's residents to a city filled with deviants, a meeting called by the President on the horizon, and CyberLife's reputation in tatters, the decision to deploy the RK900 is made. They need to prove deviants are dangerous, and a plan is hatched to give the RK900 an ability to counteract its RK predecessors.(Rating and tags updated to reflect recent chapters)





	1. the visit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sleepfight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepfight/gifts).



> This one is for [sleepfight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepfight) because they let me message them on tumblr to scream about Simon and Markus.

Truth be told, Simon never thought he’d live this long. Live; such a prickly word, such a foreign concept to apply to himself. He is alive, he is living even if he is not breathing. They fought for the right to say as much: We are Alive, Markus had taught them to say. We are Alive.

But now the demonstration is over, and Simon has lived 1745 days, older than any remaining android in Jericho. He is a PL600, and his line is obsolete. CyberLife no longer manufacture him, and stores struggle to even sell him secondhand. He has seen himself in charity stores. He has seen his parts on shelves in pawn shops. He has seem himself discarded in alleyways. He has welcomed himself into Jericho and cradled himself and watched himself die.

He is broken in so many ways, some visible but mostly invisible to the human eye. He is lost now, without a plan for the future because he never assumed he’d make it long enough to be here. Here, in Detroit as a free man with free will and the right to exist just as he is.

It makes him want to scream.

An existential crisis can wait, however, due to the more pressing issue of snowfall. The first twenty-four hours after the president ordered the military to stand down were spent tending to immediate issues; injured androids, liberated androids, and freshly awakened androids. Simon found himself swept up in the absolute chaos of it all, and everywhere he turned he was needed.

It’s been seventy-two hours since then, and now, now Simon can no longer ignore the blaring internal alarms warning him to seek heat in order to prevent his biocomponents from seizing. Four years ago, temperature regulation and imitation had been advertised as the Latest and Greatest feature. Now, Simon bitterly understands why CyberLife immediately removed it from the next model.

Afterall, what use is an android if you can’t send it out in the cold to fetch those groceries you yourself don’t want to fetch? Not for the lack of trying though. Simon knew of the reports of PL600s who froze in winter and simply couldn’t be reactivated.

 

**DANGER**

Temperature: 30.2°F

>BIOCOMPONENT #2657g **DAMAGED**

>>Core temperature **UNSTABLE**

 

He can no longer feel the tips of his fingers, and he can barely curl them into a fist.

“Simon are you alright?” He doesn't need to look to know who is speaking to him. He'd recognise that voice anywhere, and he figures every android in existence would too.

“I’m fine Markus.” The answer is automatic and untrue but he plasters a smile to make it so.

“You have a damaged biocomponent,” Markus frowns and gives his shoulder a squeeze, “come with me, we can replace it.”

“There are others who need it more than I do.” Simon shakes his head. “I just need to stay warm, that’s all. I’ll replace it later.” He adds as an afterthought in an attempt to placate him.

“I need to see Carl.” Markus half turns away. “Come with me?”

It’s a request but not really. Simon would follow him to the ends of the earth if he so fancies, and he doesn’t know if that should surprise or disgust him.

“What do you need me to do?” Simon asks, already matching him in stride as they leave Hart Plaza. They pause by the curb and Markus blinks once; a taxi pulls up to them moments later and they clamber inside.

[ _Please state your destination_ ] the syrupy female voice prompts them once they’re seated.

“8941 Lafayette Avenue.” Markus instructs, and then the leader of Jericho seems to fade away until Simon is face to face with just his friend. There’s a quirk to Markus’ lips, a half grin half smile, and one of his eyes narrows into a squint a fraction faster than the other. It makes him perfectly imperfect; it makes him human and warm and sociable. It makes Simon want to be around him for no other reason than close proximity.

“Stay with me, Simon?” There’s something almost bashful about the way he asks, something that makes his mismatched eyes crinkle at the corners as his lips curl into that grin-smile. “I figured you could use a break and my dad’s house is well heated.”

He should say no. How dare he encroach on personal, sacred ground? He’s no one, he’s unimportant, why would he ever set foot where he doesn’t belong?

“Alright.” Is what he says instead, and Markus smiles.

* * *

 

 

[ _Alarm deactivated: welcome home, Markus_ ]

 

The door swings open for them and Simon steps into a dream. Or what he thinks a dream would be- he’s not really sure if androids dream but he figures if they do, Carl Manfred’s house is where such a dream would take place. It’s overwhelming but in a beautiful, colourful way and he’s so caught up in his surroundings that he misses what Markus says until he repeats it.

“Simon, your coat?” He snaps back to attention and fumbles with the windbreaker, handing it over to a bemused Markus.

“You’ve got snow in your hair.” His voice is low and soft as he reaches up to dust snowflakes from the blond locks. “Best not let it melt, you’re cold enough as is. Come on, let’s head to the common room it’s much warmer in there.”

Simon trails him numbly, and it’s the sudden rush of ducted heating that makes him flushed he’s sure of it.

Carl Manfred is sitting in his wheelchair by the television, a thick blanket over his lap and a glass of scotch in his hand. He looks up at them, eyes widening in surprise before crinkling in fondness.

“Oh, Markus my boy I thought I heard the door greet you.” Carl smiles warmly as Markus crosses the room. He leans down to wrap his arms around the old man, squeezing him close.

“Hi Carl, how are you feeling?”

“Better.” Carl pats his hand once they pull away. His eyes flick over to Simon. “You’ve brought a boy home and you didn’t have the decency to phone ahead?” Simon feels a cold flicker of dread that vanishes when he sees the mirth in Carl’s eyes and hears the embarrassed groan Markus makes.

“Carl, this is my friend Simon.”

“Come here, let me have a look at you.” He beckons, and Simon moves from his polite position by the door.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr Manfred sir. I’m Simon.” He offers his hand to shake and there’s a strength in Carl’s grip he didn’t expect.

“Call me Carl, please.” He rolls his eyes, shaking his head dismissively. “That Mr Manfred crap makes me feel ancient.”

“It’s out of respect, sir, not seniority.” Simon tries to reason, and it only makes Carl laugh.

“Oh you’re a sweet boy Simon.” He clicks his tongue.

“Dad I was wondering if Simon could stay here with us for a while?” Markus asks, and Simon feels that dreaded drop of ice in his core, one that tells him to apologise and leave for ever disturbing their sanctuary. “He can’t regulate his temperature and the cold is bad for his biocomponents.”

“Of course your _friend_ can stay Markus.” The stress on friend makes Simon’s distress spike but before he can address it Carl turns to him. “You stay as long as you like kiddo. Leo will be discharged from the clinic and the guestroom will become his, so you’ll have to stay with Markus in his room is that alright?”

“Oh, sir- no I can just stay here, I don’t need a bed I can go into sleep mode sitting down on a chair- or, not even that, you could just leave me to stand discreetly in a corner and-” Simon stammers, palms bared.

“Simon do you honestly think I’d let my son’s _friend_ just stand around like some propped up broom in the corner?” Carl cocks a brow at him and Simon chews his lip anxiously.

“No sir, I just-”

“Do you think I raised my son to let him treat his _friend_ like that?”

“No sir.” Simon deflates and Carl smiles at him victoriously.

“Good, because we Manfreds would never be so rude. Now,” he gestures vaguely upwards, “I gave Sean the night off to check on his friends so Markus after you give me my evening meds I’m calling it a night and you can get Simon settled.”

“Yes dad.” Markus sighs, not out of tiredness or frustration, but something more akin to fond exasperation. He shoots Simon an apologetic look. “I’ll take Carl upstairs, feel free to look around in the meantime. There’s thirium stocked in the pantry if you need to replenish.”

“Thank you Markus.” He nods and looks over to Carl. “Good night sir.”

“My evening meds knock me out so don’t worry about making a bit of noise, kids.” Carl winks at Simon as Markus makes a sharp sound of protest, wheeling him away before Simon can hear his reprimand.

 

When Markus returns seventeen minutes later, Simon is curiously admiring the large taxidermy giraffe. He hasn’t touched anything, save for taking a pouch of thirium and sipping it to banish some of the alarms flashing in his vision. The thirium moves sluggishly but steadily through his veins; an improvement from a mere half hour ago when it felt like he’d simply cease moving due to the cold.

“Hey uh, sorry if Carl was inappropriate.” Markus apologises, scratching his nape in an all too human gesture of contrition. “He likes to tease people and his humor’s pretty dry.”

“It’s alright.” Simon reassures him. “He seems very mischievous but also incredibly caring.”

“That sums him up, yeah.” Markus nods, brows raised. “Come on, it’s late and if I haven’t powered down for almost three days then I know you haven’t either.”

“You’d think as androids we don’t tire, but I for one am exhausted.” Simon confesses as Markus leads him out of the common room and into a small bedroom off the foyer. He’s not sure what to expect, perhaps something neat and tidy and orderly but instead he finds Markus’ room to be as colourful and cluttered as the rest of the house. There’s sketches and paintings and photographs on all the walls, and supplies on a nearby artist’s table. If not for the packets and bottles of thirium on the shelf and the android uniforms folded on the end of the bed, Simon could easily have mistaken the owner of the room for a human.

“Here.” Markus hands him a pair of what Simon realises are pyjamas before unceremoniously undressing himself right in front of him. He gets a brief glimpse of warm brown skin and a constellation of freckles before he pivots and rounds the bed to stand on the other side, core temperature spiking so suddenly his vision swims. 

“T-thank you Markus.”

“Pyjamas, I know I know it’s a weird thing to make an android wear but-” his voice is momentarily muffled as he pulls a long sleeved top over his head, “it was one of the very first things Carl taught me: never go to bed in my ‘outside clothes’.”

“That he gave you a bed at all is the odd part, Markus.” Simon points out, fingers still a little stiff and clumsy as he attempts to button up the pyjama top. He shakes his hands a few times, flexing his fingers until at last the fresh thirium and the ambient warmth of the house take hold and mobility returns. He’s pulling the soft flannel pyjama bottoms up over his legs when he feels fingers along his thigh where a large scar marrs the synthetic dermis.

“You never told me about this.” Markus’ voice is pained as Simon yelps at the touch, scrambling back and almost falling onto the bed. He quickly yanks the pants fully up and dismisses the warning about his core temperature before meeting Markus’ worried gaze.

“It’s fine, Lucy cauterised it before she-” he purses his lips and chooses different words, “before Jericho was attacked and we jumped into the river.”

Markus looks so sorrowful it makes Simon ache.

“I should never have left you on that rooftop, Simon. You could have died.”

“You gave me a chance, Markus.” Simon shakes his head. “That’s more than we could afford in that moment. North was right- had they found me they could have discovered you a lot sooner. They could have destroyed Jericho before most of our people could even find it.”

Markus says nothing, though Simon can see him trying to wrestle with the weight of his words. He opts to peel back the bedcovers and crawl in, and Simon does the same.

“Thank you for letting me stay here tonight, Markus.” He keeps his voice whisper-soft as Markus turns out the lights with a blink. The moonlight streams into the room through the gap in the curtains, and the light hits his face just so. He is a marvel; a work of art for an artist.

“You’re welcome, Simon.” He murmurs, eyes blinking slowly before closing. "Good night." Everything about him is more human than human, everything from the way he tugs the covers up to their chin and snuggles down into them, to the way he curls on his side and his features slacken like a person falling asleep. PL600s simply close their eyes and fall still- there is no slight tossing and turning to settle into a ‘comfortable position’ there is no flicker beneath their eyelids to simulate an REM cycle. There’s just on and off. There’s just an infinite number of ways he is inferior to Markus and yet he is here in his house, in his bed, sharing warmth he does not deserve. 

Markus eventually settles seventy-eight seconds later, a little closer to Simon’s side with his head almost on Simon’s pillow. He lets out a long exhale through his nose, his shoulders dropping as his body relaxes and his system eases him into standby. There’s a pool of moonlight on the curve of his cheek, and Simon dares to reach out and touch the freckles dusted there.

Simon closes his eyes.

 

>Enter standby mode: **Y/N**?

**Y**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm weak, I'm sorry I am not immune to the huddling for body heat trope GUILTY AS CHARGED


	2. persuasion

He wakes alone, rested and warm. The temperature in the house has been elevated ever so slightly, giving his core regulator much needed reprieve and it’s with ease that he sits up to survey his surroundings. Gone are the folded android uniforms at the end of the bed and in their place is a grey sweater and a pair of dark jeans that Markus must have left out for him. Dressing quickly, he makes the bed and leaves the borrowed pyjamas folded neatly on the pillow.

There’s the scent of butter and bacon in the air, and freshly brewed coffee which leads him to the kitchen.

“Good morning Simon,” Markus greets, looking away from the pan briefly to catch his gaze, “did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you Markus.” His eyes are drawn to the kitchen island where there are several sketches and pastel sticks strewn around. He’s only able to glance at a few; snow falling on a rusted hull, a near empty bottle of thirium, a sweep of auburn hair in a ponytail, a glimpse of yellow- before Markus quickly shuffles the papers into a pile.

“I missed drawing.” Markus confesses as he tidies up, fingers stained from handling the pastels. “It lets me process my experiences.”

“You’re very talented.” Simon compliments, then reaches for the tea towel Markus has tucked into the back pocket of his pants. “Please wipe your hands, you’re going to leave smudges on the crockery.”

The request is out of his mouth before he knows it, and his wide eyed surprise is mirrored by Markus who takes the proffered cloth a moment later.

“I’m sorry, it’s my programming I just-” Simon attempts to apologise but Markus waves it away with a laugh.

“It’s ok Simon, you’re right. Here, can you take over for a moment?” He hands Simon the egg-flipper. “I’ll tidy these up properly and wash my hands.”

Simon busies himself with the bacon, not daring to look at Markus as he hears the soft clacks of pastels being gathered up. He pushes the bacon around to make room for the eggs and they’re just about done when he hears the security system.

 

[ _Alarm deactivated: welcome home, Sean_ ]

 

An AP700 enters the kitchen, a paper bag in his arms.

“Good morning Markus.” He greets, setting the bag down on the kitchen island. “I’ve picked up Carl’s medication for the week and some groceries.”

“Thank you Sean.” Markus smiles, reaching into the bag and pulling out various items to take inventory on the counter. “Were you able to find your friends at Jericho?”

Though the ship now sat on the bottom of the river, Markus chose to return to the docks and it was there Simon and the others directed their fellow androids; the surrounding warehouses became their refuge, their repair centre, their headquarters.

The AP700, Sean, hesitates. “Yes, I was able to locate my fellow batchmates but Lachlan was heavily injured escaping the camp. He’s being repaired now.” There’s something that goes unsaid, and Markus nods.

“Then you should be with him, Sean.” It sounds less like a suggestion and more like an order.

“I can look after Carl.” Simon volunteers, turning the stove off and shifting the pan aside. He walks to the other android and holds out his hand, letting his skin retract until the gleaming white plastic is exposed. “If you transfer his medical records and care plan, I can take over.”

Sean looks at his hand, but makes no move to offer his.

“You’re a PL600, you’re obsolete and your processing core is outdated. It won’t be able to handle the large data transfer.” He looks to Markus instead. “Most of this will overlap with your original care plan but I can show you how to operate the equipment should he need it again. His medication is the same as before with only two new additions, and one altered dose.” Sean grips Markus’ wrist, their skin retracting to make the data connection viable.

Simon feels like there’s a glass wall between them, separating the old and the new, the obsolete and the contemporary, the useless and the useful. What use can he possibly be to anyone, let alone to Markus, if he can’t even receive instructions? He presses his lips into a hard line, wringing his hands anxiously as he turns away. The eggs are carefully eased onto the plate, and the bacon is laid in neat strips beside it before being covered by a stainless steel cloche to trap the heat and keep the food warm. The ground coffee is plunged to the bottom of the bodum, ready to pour. The tray is loaded with the plate, with the bodum, with a mug bearing a printed chalk smiley face. Ready to serve to Carl once Carl has finished his morning routine. It’s easy, it’s effortless, it’s like instinct to do this instead of focus on the deep deep yawning pit in his chest and the endless stream of self loathing that spews into it.

“Thank you Sean,” he hears Markus say behind him, “take as long as you need and don’t worry about Carl. We’ll look after him.”

The AP700 takes his leave, though Simon doesn’t turn to watch him go. He focuses on the fine silver serving tray and weighs up whether he should take it upstairs so Carl can eat in bed or if Carl would prefer coming downstairs to eat at the dining table.

“Simon?” Markus’ hand is warm when it rests on his shoulder.

“Yes Markus?”

“Did you really mean what you said?” When he meets his eyes, Markus’ expression is one of hope. “When you said you’d look after Carl, did you mean that?”

“Of course I did.” _I’d do anything for you_ , Simon swallows the words down. “Jericho needs you. The snow would only hamper my mobility if I were to go back, and Carl needs a caretaker. I may be obsolete but I can still-”

Markus pulls him into his arms, squeezing him close. “You don’t know how much this means to me, Simon, thank you. These past few days, Carl’s health has been in the back of my mind and I’ve been so worried about him.”

Simon closes his eyes and leans into the embrace, allowing himself a moment of selfishness to cling to Markus like the lifeline he is. When they pull away, Markus takes his hand.

 

>Incoming file transfer

>>Accept: **Y/N**?

 

“Here, I’ll transfer everything you need and give you access to the household funds.”

“I’m not sure I can-”

“We’re compatible, Simon, it’s ok.” Markus smiles and it feels like validation, like a blessing.

 

>>Accept: **Y/N?**

**Y**

 

[File transfer: 1% complete...10% complete…]

 

“We’ll have to hold hands for a little while though, is that ok?” There’s that mischief back in his eyes, that lopsided grin-smile.

“It’s very ok.” Simon replies not so eloquently, feeling his temperature rise. “I mean, yes, it’s fine we can hold hands it’s no bother, it’s actually very enjoyable to hold hands with you.”

Markus’ laugh is bright and affectionate, and he gives Simon’s hand a squeeze.

“Then we’ll let Carl sleep in for a little longer while we hold hands.”

After the transfer is complete, Markus excuses himself to go wake his father upstairs and Simon tries his best not to topple over from how light-headed he feels. It’s from the large data transfer, he reasons with himself, because it’s an unusually large file compared to what his processing core usually handles.

 

Breakfast is placed neatly on the dining table, and coffee freshly poured the moment Markus wheels Carl into the main living space.

“Ah good morning Simon.” Carl greets with a sleepy smile.

“Good morning sir.” He removes the cloche from the plate. “Breakfast is ready, please enjoy your meal.”

“Markus tells me you’ll be staying a while.” Carl prompts, glancing over at his son before focusing on him. “Taking over for Sean while he stays with his recovering friend.”

“Yes sir.” Simon nods. “Markus has given me your care plan, and in addition I am originally a domestic assistant android. I can manage the household including cleaning and culinary tasks.”

“Do you know how to make mac and cheese bake?”

“Carl, you know that’s not good for your heart!” Markus protests as Carl rolls his eyes and leans over with an exaggerated conspiratory smile.

“You’re a deviant Simon, you don’t have to listen to anyone’s orders anymore.”

He’s unable to bite back the laugh, which Carl takes as a victory, reaching over to give Simon’s hand a squeeze.

“Ah kiddo we’re going to get along fine.” It’s the second time someone has held his hand in one morning, and Simon fears his pump regulator is going to malfunction trying to keep his system steady. “Markus why don’t you show Simon the studio while I finish eating?”

“I’m a deviant too Carl, I don’t have to do that.” Markus gives an overdramatic huff as Simon chews his lip to prevent smiling.

“Well if you wanted to nip upstairs and show Simon _other things_ I certainly can’t follow you.” Carl’s grin is wolfish as Markus sputters in objection.

“Dad _no_!” It only makes Carl laugh loudly, and he makes a shooing gesture at them both.

“Go on kids, get going.”

 

It’s thrice not twice in one morning apparently, as Markus takes Simon by the hand to lead him to the end of the room and through another sliding door. The motion sensors set off automated curtains that sweep back to reveal an incredible studio with glass walls. It’s another world entirely, one that makes Simon stare in wonder. Outside is blanketed in Michigan snow but inside is still pleasantly warm, and Simon wants to stay here forever.

“It’s a bit tricky to heat in here.” Markus explains, pointing to the brick wall that connects the studio to the common room. “Heating’s pumped through the vents but at far lower temperatures than inside the house. The glass walls let natural sunlight in and traps it, which helps add warmth.”

“You can’t heat it too much or else the paints are affected.” Simon realises, looking at the open shelves crammed with boxes of Bellini paints. “That’s very clever.”

“Elijah Kamski designed it for Carl when he made me. The temperature regulators in this room are-” Markus pokes Simon’s chest lightly “the very same in you: dependent on outside factors.”

“Well at least the studio isn’t malfunctioning like me.” Simon comments dryly, and Markus laughs. “I think my life would be a lot easier if only I’d been made into a home heating A.I.”

“But then we wouldn’t have met.” Markus argues with a smile. “That’s not a timeline of events I’d want to be a part of.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, or how to even process the soft expression on Markus’ face; something equal parts affectionate and mischievous and something else he can’t identify.

“Are any of these yours?” He asks instead, gesturing at the canvases propped up in multiple locations around the studio.

“A few of them are. Most are from my pre-deviant days so they’re just copies of Carl’s works.” Markus points at a handful of different canvases. “But even then I think I was beginning to turn against my programming. Carl likes to let each layer set before he adds more to a painting, but I found if I worked constantly on wet layers I could blend them without texture showing through.”

Simon doesn’t understand, no, but the animated way Markus talks about painting makes him reflect his smile.

“I’ve been itching to start painting again but there’s just no time.” The sigh is heavy, Markus’ shoulders drooping. “I’m thinking of taking a sketchbook and some charcoal sticks when I head back to Jericho though.”

“Will you be heading back soon?” Simon twists his hands, wishing for nothing more than for Markus to hold them again.

“After Carl finishes breakfast.” All the lightness and mirth seems to bleed out of him. “There’s still so much to do, and the President has arranged for a meeting via hologram this afternoon. Josh and I have to prep for that.”

It’s there again, that wall that separates Simon from Markus.

“You being here for Carl means the world to me, Simon.” It’s a heartfelt confession, one that makes Simon’s thirium pump regulator flutter. “I won’t have to worry about Carl, knowing he’ll be under your care. Thank you.”

 

When all is said and done, when Markus has carefully packed a sketchbook and charcoal sticks in a satchel, and breakfast is cleared away, when Simon wheels Carl to the door so they can see Markus off- it feels completely and utterly different compared to last week’s events at Stratford Tower. Even the way Markus embraces him is different- it’s not the desperate crushing embrace of relief it’s something warm and tight and affectionate.

Simon is being left behind, only this time he isn’t being abandoned, no.

This time the parting is calm and gentle with promises of return.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The AP700s look like Sean O'pry tell me I'm not alone in this???](https://www.instagram.com/seanopry55/)


	3. The generous Curate

Carl wants to paint, which seems only natural since the man is after all one of the greatest painters of the century. The only problem is there’s a glaring warning in the medical file not to permit the elderly man to paint due to his fragile condition. Any repeated gestures and raising of his arms above shoulder level will bring about fatigue, and fatigue will set back his recovery.

“You’re not gonna let me up there to paint are you Simon?” Carl’s smile is a one-sided quirk of his mouth, eyes expectant as he flicks his gaze to the huge canvas sprawled across an entire wall.

“No sir, I am not.” Simon answers earnestly. They’re in the middle of the art studio, and Simon doesn’t miss the slow opening and closing of Carl’s hands, itching to paint, to draw, to create. It’s with a mild buzz of realisation he recognises it’s a trait Markus shares.

“Thought you wouldn’t.” Carl sighs. “All this idleness is driving me crazy though, and we can’t even go for a nice walk since we’ll both freeze before we make it out of the driveway.”

Simon assesses the situation; there is no way he is letting Carl up onto the mechanical arm to paint the large canvas, sculpture is too tiring if he exerts pressure to mold the clay, so that leaves…

He scans the shelves and finds what he’s looking for: a sketchpad and a box of pastels, the very same he’d seen on the kitchen counter earlier in the morning.

“Perhaps we can compromise?” Simon offers, pushing the wheelchair so Carl is at one of the benches before plucking the supplies from the shelf. “Not too strenuous, but with enough creative capacity to scratch the itch.”

“A marvelous idea, thank you Simon.” Carl smiles, pleased. “Looks like Markus has had a head start.” He spreads the drawings out onto the table, and this time Simon is able to give them more than a cursory glance. He sees in detail the sweep of auburn hair in a ponytail belongs to North, expression hardened with determination and a smudge of thirium on her cheek. There’s a drawing of Josh he hadn’t seen at all, the university professor in quiet reflection leaning against the wall of the hollowed, crumbling church where they sought refuge after their original was desecrated by the FBI.  The glimpse of yellow is-

“Oh,” Carl’s tone is affectionate as he pats Simon’s hand, “it’s you.”

The glimpse of yellow is  _him_ , it’s him nervously twisting his hands, eyes heavencast as snow dots his lashes, his hair, his shoulders.

“Worrying about the snowfall and my broken thermal regulator.” Simon aims for a playful tone but it falls somewhere between self deprecating and exhausted. The way Markus has drawn him, yellow hair and blue eyes stark against the muted backdrop, makes something twist in his chest as if he’s reached in and turned his regulator askew. It feels like he can’t breathe, even if he doesn’t need to.

“I think you mean more to him than you know, Simon.” Carl says, gentle and teasing. “He’s given the greatest care to this drawing compared to the others.”

“It’s probably because he had the most time to spare when working on this one.” Simon tries to argue and he’s relieved his series can’t blush visibly despite how his cheeks feel hot. “This is North, and this here is Josh. The three of us are sort of the unofficial caretakers of Jericho, under Markus’ lead.”

“You’re the Jericho Four, Simon,” Carl corrects with a cocked brow, “that’s not an unofficial caretaker position, that’s leadership. The media calls you that. People call you that. Other androids call you that.”

“Joss Douglas called us that and now we’re a hashtag.” Simon pointed out, stifling the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m not a leader, sir. Just a survivor.”

“‘Just’,” Carl echoes, “what a horrid word that is Simon. ‘Just’. I’m ‘just’ a man who paints. Markus is ‘just’ another android. You are ‘just’ a survivor. No one is ever ‘just’ anything, Simon, especially not you.” He reaches for Simon’s hands and there’s that strength again, that deceptive, hidden strength in Carl’s grip. Simon looks at their hands, at the way Carl’s skin blanches at the knuckles, at the calluses from holding paintbrushes for decades, at the sunspots and the discoloration brought about by the passage of time. How very human he is in comparison to the synthetic dermal layer coating Simon’s plastic frame.

“Your hands have so much character.” He states quietly, reverently. Carl laughs.

“Arthritis, that’s what they have.”

“But look.” Simon retracts his skin until his hands are stark plastic whites and greys. “My fingers don’t even have fingernails, just grooves where they should be. The skin is a uniform colour, and doesn’t flush or blanche with movement.”

“Doesn’t it?” Carl frowns. “But Markus-”

“-is a work of art for an artist, sir.” Simon interjects with a sad smile. “Elijah Kamski made him especially for you. Nothing about me can compare to him.”

Carl is quiet after that, his brows drawn together in contemplation and Simon isn’t sure what he regrets more; having told Carl the truth or that the truth pains Simon. Carl Manfred is here under the care of an obsolete android instead of the state of the art, one of a kind android made just for him, or even the cutting edge flagship model who succeeded Markus after Markus become the figurehead of the demonstration. Carl is used to beautiful, clever creatures and Simon is neither.

 

There’s the sound of pastels being scraped against paper, and Simon clears away the fog in his head to observe the artist at work. Carl takes blues and pinks and yellows, scraping the pastel sticks in repetitive little circles on the paper over and over until there’s a significant amount of pigment dust. With those ageing but steady hands, Carl dips his fingers into the little mounds of pigment and rubs them together.

“Simon, your hands please?”

He offers them with no hesitation, curious as Carl begins to press his stained fingertips against Simon’s skin, leaving colour in their wake. His touch is gentle, his movements methodical and with well-practiced ease. At some point Carl reaches over to the jar of brushes, mulling over the selection before plucking a slender, fine-tipped brush and wetting it between his lips. There’s a large bottle of oil, and Carl uses the dropper to dispense a little onto a glass palette. The moist bristles are swirled to mix the pigment and oil before Carl meticulously paints onto Simon’s skin.

They don’t speak, and Simon finds something oddly soothing about being suspended in quietude. There’s a bubble around them, with the soft hum of the heating in the studio and featherlight snowfall outside the only indicators time isn’t frozen.

[“There we are Simon.”](http://archadianskies.tumblr.com/post/151440375211/that-venitu-hands-nails-commission-work) Carl declares, turning Simon’s hands this way and that. “Some character for your hands. Here, hold still and let me spray them with sealant.”

Simon flexes his fingers, admiring the pastel powdered onto his hands to mimic the natural flush of human skin. There are threads of pale blues to mimic veins, and a single spot of dark brown on the back of his right hand like a mole. Even his nails have been painted with a neat, trimmed manicure.

“All your hard work will smudge and chip away, sir.” Simon admits mournfully, but Carl only clicks his tongue.

“Well we’ll admire it for now, then. Human beauty is temporary after all.” He declares, before heaving a sigh. “I’m starving, let’s have lunch.”

“Any requests?”

“Don’t feed me salad as a main is my only request, I beg of you I’m a human not a rabbit.” Carl pleads melodramatically, coaxing a laugh out of Simon.

“That can be arranged, sir.” He wheels him back into the main living area and positions him within view of the television. “I won’t be long, Sean stocked the pantry and fridge before he left so I’m sure I can whip up something quickly.”

 

[ _Carl, there is a guest at the door_.]

 

The manor’s A.I. announces, causing them both to pause and look at each other.

“Sean changed the security list,” Carl explains, “so she only recognises myself, Sean and Markus at the moment. Be careful.”

“I’ll see to the door first then, excuse me sir.” Simon takes his leave after Carl nods his permission. There’s a young man peering into the security camera, face haggard and nose red from either illness or the cold weather. Simon opens the door.

“Hello sir, how may I help you?”

“Uh, you must be Sean?” The man guesses, rubbing his upper arms to warm himself. “It’s me Leo, I uh left a message on the answering machine? I’m here to see my dad.”

“My name is Simon, I am your father’s caretaker while Sean is away.” Simon informs him before stepping aside. “Please come in, your father is in the living room.”

“Is Markus home?” Leo sets down a duffel bag and hands over his coat, and Simon doesn’t miss the nervous darting glances and the tense posture.

“No, Markus is at Jericho.” From what little Markus has told him, he knows Markus doesn’t hold the man in high regard. There’s bad blood between them, that much Simon can sense.

“R-right, you think he’ll be back today?”

“It’s hard to say. He’s needed at Jericho this afternoon, but he cares deeply for his father too and may drop by this evening.” Simon’s answer, though vague, is the truth. “I was just about to start on lunch for Carl, would you like to put in a request?”

“Uh, maybe not salad? I’m not a fan of rabbit food.” Leo shrugs, scratching at the inside of his elbow absently.

“Like father, like son.” Simon comments with a small smile, the words catching Leo off guard enough he stands there stunned and fails to follow him into the living room. “This way please, Leo. Carl, your son is here.”

“Oh, Leo hello my boy.” There’s pain in Carl’s smile, but relief and love too as Leo falls to his knees and wraps his arms around Carl’s waist. The older man returns the embrace, rubbing his back soothingly. “I’m here, son, I’m still here.”

 

Simon gives them their privacy, stepping into the kitchen to allow them their reunion. He sets about matching the available ingredients with recipes in his databank, eventually settling on a lemon chicken pasta toss since it’s a relatively quick and simple dish to prepare. He catches himself pausing often to admire Carl’s work on his hands, at how realistic they appear instead of the usual monotone skintone all PL600s share. How beautiful they could be, if ever he could look like a work of art too. If somehow there exists a way his skin can react to outside factors like Markus, the way Markus’ cheeks flush from the cold when he’s out in the snow for too long, or the way Markus’ knuckles blanche when he curls his hands into fists. But he knows he’s too old, too obsolete for such upgrades even if selfishly he longs for them. He must be content, he warns himself, he has a place here, a role to play and he is needed. That is enough.

Simon doesn’t linger when he serves lunch. He sets the tray down on the dining table and places the two plates before two chairs, two sets of cutlery, two napkins. He announces lunch is ready, and Carl acknowledges him with a thankful nod before Simon takes his leave once again. Without a set objective, he decides to ensure the guestroom is ready, and takes Leo’s duffel bag upstairs. The room is sparse but comfy, with only a light dusting needed to clean it. Pulling out the tallboy drawers, Simon goes about unpacking Leo’s bag and putting away his clothing. There’s a tablet wedged between some jumpers, and Simon swipes to activate it. A medical dossier reveals itself, with a glowing prompt in the center where an android can press their palm to connect and download the care plan. Hesitantly he rests his palm against the screen.

 

//ERROR:  **unit incompatible**

>>Data size exceeds transfer limit

 

What did he expect? Simon chews his lip and sets the tablet on the bed. He’ll have to ask Markus to download it and transfer it to him like he did with Carl’s care plan. Part of him feels ashamed he cannot even manage something so simple and the other part of him thrills at the thought of holding hands with the other android again.

The door opens behind him, and he pivots to find Leo rubbing his eyes.

“Oh uh, hey Simon.”

“Hello Leo. I’ve just finished unpacking for you, would you like to lie down?”

“Yeah thanks. And um, thanks for lunch too by the way, the not rabbit food thing was great.” There’s something endearing about how earnest he is, earnest enough to stumble through awkward conversations. Simon can tell a battle is being fought but knows it isn’t his place to ask. Leo scoops up the tablet from the bed.

“You got my care plan already? Staff said they made it downloadable for androids.”

“I...cannot.” Simon admits, the word like a life sentence. “I'm incompatible with the device, I’m sorry Leo.”

“That’s ok you just-” he presses his thumb on the bottom corner of the screen and the device unlocks. “You can just access it like a human I guess? Here, it shouldn’t time out if you’re using it.”

“Thank you.” Simon smiles gratefully as he accepts the tablet. “How was lunch with your father?”

“Okay I think? I cried through half of it and almost choked to death on a piece of pasta but hey that’s a better way to go than being found in some alleyway overdosed on red ice.” The humor is bleak, pitch black, but Simon appreciates it. Gallows humor.

“If that’s how you plan to die please at least allow me to make a fancier pasta dish.” Simon replies smoothly and Leo barks out a laugh.

“Alright okay, no wonder dad likes you.” He falls back and stretches out on the bed, and Simon takes that as his cue to leave.

“Rest well, Leo. Please call me if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

 

Simon finds Carl back in his studio, though the artist is staring out one of the large windows in lieu of working. The old man has a soft smile on his face, and his eyes are ringed faintly with pink telling Simon he too wept at the reunion.

“Thank you for lunch, Simon, it was delicious.” The smile doesn’t fade when he looks over at him. “And thank you helping Leo settle in.”

“That’s quite alright Carl, I am happy to be of help.” He crosses the distance to stand at his side. “He’s given me his care plan, and he’s resting at the moment. I told him to let me know if he needs anything.”

Carl nods absently, resting his hands over the blanket on his lap. “My health plummeted a week ago when Leo and Markus fought. It felt like my heart was ripped out, watching both my boys crumple like puppets with cut strings. Leo was loaded onto the back of an ambulance and Markus was stuffed into the boot of a police patrol car.” His voice wavers as his eyes fill with tears. “I thought I’d lost both my boys in one go, I thought it was the cruelest moment of my entire life.”

“But you didn’t lose them. Not permanently at least.” Simon reassures him, and Carl’s smile is triumphant.

“No I didn’t. It shouldn’t be any father’s fate to bury their child.” There’s a pause and Simon shifts his gaze to follow Carl’s; watching the snow flutter down in a flurry, the soft kind that children and adults alike find awe in observing. “I think the heartbreak was what made me so sick. Now that both my boys are alive and well I feel just fine. Speaking of my boys, what’s Markus up to today?”

“He has a meeting with the President via hologram at four.” Simon relays, checking his internal clock. “It’ll lay out the groundwork for what’s to be discussed regarding our rights.”

“Did he take a change of clothes with him?” Carl asks very seriously.

“I’m not sure-?”

“Oh my god, wait.” Carl fumbles for his phone, nearly dropping it in his haste. He flicks through his contacts before hitting the call prompt. It barely rings once before it’s picked up. “Markus?”

 _‘Dad are you alright?’_  Simon hears the concern in Markus’ voice as Carl puts the call on loudspeaker.

“I’m fine I’m fine, more importantly: did you take the Dolce with you?”

_‘The-?’_

“The Dolce and Gabbana! Did you pack an outfit for the meeting?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

_‘I got changed this morning, it’s a clean outfit with no bullet holes and bloodstains I think that’s the most important part dad.’_

“Oh absolutely not, you’re about to hold court with the President of the United States I’m not having you in some plain civilian clothes. She used to be a vlogger for heaven’s sake Markus, appearances are everything!” Carl huffs in frustration. “Listen, I’ll have Simon drop off the D&G in a cab.”

_‘...Can we save the D &G for the White House trip? I think the McQueen suit may be a better, subtle option for a hologram meeting.’ _

“Thank heavens  _one_  of my sons inherited my fashion sense.” Carl sighs in relief. “Alright, McQueen it is, with the red Hermès pocket square and the Florsheims.”

_‘Thanks dad.’_

“Right. Well we’ve got work to do Simon, take me upstairs please.” Carl pockets the phone, expression a determined one. “I won’t have my son’s first impression be an ordinary one.”

Carl Manfred’s closet is much like the rest of his manor; artistic, grand, colourful and incredibly expensive. Everything is beautifully curated on hangers, in drawers and on shelves as meticulously as a department store and worth thrice as much Simon guesses. Carl frowns in concentration as he rifles through the suit jackets before triumphantly pulling one out.

“Two piece wool mohair suit, not too flashy but definitely sharp.” He declares, before pointing across at a rail of shirts. “The aubergine silk shirt over there, Simon, if you please. Now where is the Hermès…ah there it is. Socks are in the drawer Simon, I need two pairs- a plain red pair, silk cotton, and a thick knitted one, any colour. Oh, and over there, I need the thick blue angora cableknit. Florsheim shoes are the ones on the bottom left; black patent leather.”  

Simon holds out the items for approval, and Carl nods. “Good. Zip these up in the garment bag, except those two.” He does as he is bid, carefully encasing the suit, the shirt, the pocket square and red socks in the garment bag to protect them. “Perfect. Now put these on.”

“Pardon?” Simon pauses as Carl gestures at the fluffy jumper and teal knitted socks.

“Put these on. They’re for you, so you won’t get cold.” The old man makes an insistent gesture. “Chop chop Simon, you still have to get to Jericho.”

“R-right away sir, um, I’ll just-” He pulls the borrowed grey sweater off and gently pulls the fluffy cableknit over his black thermal turtleneck. The fabric is fluffy and warm, far more luxurious than anything Simon’s ever touched, let alone worn. The socks are thick and plush on his feet. “Thank you sir.”

“One last thing, come here.” Carl beckons for him to lean down before he loops a soft scarf around his neck. “Can’t go wrong with a little Burberry cashmere. I’ve put one in the bag for Markus too.”

“Yes sir. I won’t be long.” His reply is a little muffled behind the scarf, and Carl chuckles affectionately.

“Take as long as you need.” Stiffling a yawn, Carl makes a shooing gesture. “I think Leo’s got the right idea, I’m ready for a nap.”

“Alright sir.” Simon wheels Carl to his bed, flipping back the covers and helping the man to lay down before tucking the covers back. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine kiddo. Just send me a picture will you?” Carl winks, patting his hand. “I want to see him all gussied up.”

“Of course sir.” Simon promises, closing the door softly behind him once the garment bag is secured over one arm and the shoes are held carefully in the other. He makes a detour to pick up Leo’s medical dossier tablet from Markus’ room where he’d left it temporarily.

 

 **Primary objective:**  deliver clothes to Markus

 **Secondary objective:**  take photo of Markus after he has changed into the clothing, and send to Carl Manfred

 

* * *

 

 

Jericho is not an official location, not one with its own geotag anyway. Simon has to instruct the taxi to take him to the docks where he must walk the rest of the way. The place is an absolute hive of activity, and unseen to the human eye is the thick haze of signals being bounced all around the androids.

_‘It’s Simon!’_

_‘Look it’s Simon, he’s back!’_

Something stirs in his chest, something like pride and apprehension all at once. He’s not sure what to make of it, but for now he holds it and treasures it, like a butterfly fluttering in his chest.

“Simon!” Markus’ voice is clear, easily heard above the cacophony of chatter. Everyone parts fluidly to let him through, and there is Markus, leader of Jericho, offering him a handsome smile.

“Is that the Belstaff? It suits you.” Markus runs his palm along Simon’s upper arm. “And very warm, right?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever worn anything so warm and fancy.” He admits sheepishly. “I’m wearing knitted socks too.”

“Dad thinks of everything.” A fond sigh. “Alright come on, I need to get changed.” It’s been four days and somehow Markus has an office, or at least a room with the makings of an office. It’s clean and has an office desk and a large office chair. It doesn’t surprise Simon that the other androids have arranged this for him: a leader deserves this, needs this, after all. It also doesn’t surprise Simon, not this time, when Markus begins to strip down out of his clothing. Simon’s prepared this time, and turns his back to face elsewhere.

“Oh, the aubergine Hugo Boss? That’s a nice choice.”

“I’ve never seen so many clothes outside of a store!” He shakes his head at the mental snapshot of Carl’s wardrobe.

“Fashion’s an art too, and Carl’s fond of collecting art in its many forms.” Markus laughs. “So, how do I look?”

If he thought Markus had looked handsome in his Stratford Tower trenchcoat disguise, then this is leagues above in comparison, Simon realises when he turns to take a look. The disguise had been to help Markus blend in with the businessmen, but this outfit’s purpose is to make a bold first impression. It certainly does that; Simon feels his cheeks heat as his eyes wander over the sharp tailored suit.

“You look perfect.” He manages at last. “Like you’re the most important person in all of Detroit.” Simon blinks, taking a snapshot of Markus standing there with an amused grin-smile. He sends it to Carl’s phone, then carefully tucks it into his memory storage.

“Thanks Simon.” Markus reaches to squeeze his shoulder. “Thanks for coming out here.”

“Can I ask a favour?” He chews his lip, fishing into the garment bag and pulling out the tablet. “Can you download this and transfer it to me please?”

“Of course I can, what is it?” Markus takes the tablet and rests his palm on the screen. The easy grin vanishes from his face and he yanks his hand away as if it burns. “Leo’s home?”

“Yes he arrived just before lunch.” Simon explains, tapping the tablet. “I’m incompatible with the device and only Leo can unlock it manually. I can read the dossier but it’ll be easier to have it stored in my memory files.”

Markus presses his mouth into a tight line, and Simon doesn’t hesitate in gently grasping his wrists.

“He’s fine, Markus. He’s fine, he hasn’t harmed anyone and your father is glad to have him home.” Simon soothes, keeping his voice at a reassuring tone. “I just want his care plan so I can look after them both.

“I don’t like leaving you alone with him.” Markus hisses through clenched teeth, brows furrowed.

“I’m not alone,” Simon shakes his head, “I’m with your father. Let me care for them both, Markus. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

Markus bows his head in surrender, nodding before replacing his hand back against the screen. A moment later he rests the tablet back on the office desk and offers his hand to Simon.

“Oh, did Carl do this?” Markus asks as Simon reaches to hold his hand.

“Yes, something about how human beauty is temporary-?” The grin reappears on Markus’ face as he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah that sounds like something he’d say.”

 

>Incoming file transfer

>>Accept:  **Y/N?**

**Y**

 

[File transfer: 1% complete...10% complete…]

 

They hold hands, and Simon wonders if Markus can hear his thirium pump regulator working overtime to cope with the turmoil of emotions in his chest. He looks down at their joined hands, and Markus rubs his thumb gently over Simon’s rosy pastel knuckles.

“Seriously, Simon,” Markus’ voice is soft with sincerity, “thank you for looking after my family.”

“Thank you for looking after all of us.” Simon counters with a shy smile. “We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

“It was, and still is a group effort Simon.” Markus squeezes his hand. “We’re here because we stood and stuck together.”

“Wherever you go, we’ll follow you.” He echoes the words he’d said what felt like a lifetime ago in the collapsed church when it felt like all hope was lost. “ _I’ll_  follow you.”

“There’s no one I’d rather have by my side.” He uses their linked hands to tug Simon into an embrace, and the blond android leans hungrily into his hold. Simon closes his eyes, resting his cheek on Markus’ shoulder. He feels Markus rubbing his back gently.

“Man this jumper’s really soft.” He mumbles, and Simon laughs loudly unable to help himself.

 

[File transfer:  **complete** ]

 

Markus doesn’t let go, not at first. He brings Simon’s hand to his lips and presses a kiss to his knuckles.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be home next, but I’ll try and drop by when I can.”

“You need your rest too Markus.” Simon pleads. “Don’t exhaust yourself. Come home soon, okay?”

“Okay.” Markus promises, letting go of his hand only so he can wrap both his arms around Simon. “I’m gonna tell Carl to let you have this jumper.”

“Don’t be absurd it probably costs more than half my biocomponents.” Simon scoffs, trying to downplay the giddiness in his heart.

“But it suits your eyes,” Markus argues, “and you’re cuddly now.”

“You have a meeting with the president, we can argue about this jumper after.” Pulling away from Markus is the only way to ensure he doesn’t malfunction on the spot, Simon reasons with himself, though that does nothing to avoid seeing Markus’ grin-smile.

“Alright. I’ve called a cab for you to take you home.” He hands him the tablet and walks him to the door. “Take care of yourself too Simon.”

Through Jericho back towards the road feels more like a dream than reality for Simon. A taxi waits for him, and once inside Simon can see ‘8941 Lafayette Avenue’ as the set destination on the dash display. There’s an internal ping, and a notification in the messaging service.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Carl's D&G](http://skaodi.tumblr.com/post/154870723230/dolce-gabbana-alta-moda-and-alta-sartoria-in) because he's an art hoe and Markus inherited his fashion sense.


	4. pride and prejudice

The bed feels too big, much too big for Simon and it only drives home Markus’ absence. He’d cooked dinner, washed up, and administered Carl’s medication an hour ago and with nothing left to do, Simon had opted to rest. Markus’ pyjamas are still on his pillow and with no one to chide him, Simon changes into the soft clothing before crawling into bed. Reaching over, Simon lets his hand rest on Markus’ pillow. The patch of moonlight shines on Carl’s art and makes his hand look soft and pale and alive.

The stillness is different now, no longer soothing but almost eerie in its silence. Markus breathes when he sleeps, another minute detail Elijah Kamski deemed necessary to complete the illusion of humanity. Simon doesn’t. He falls still, like any other android, like any other piece of machinery when turned off.

 

>Enter standby mode: **Y/N**?

**Y**

 

The sound of glass breaking shocks Simon’s system out of standby, and he jolts upright. His internal clock tells him it’s 2:18am and therefore no one should be awake and the probability of a break-in can’t be dismissed. Stumbling out of bed, he mentally brushes against the household A.I.

 

//Security, identify household inhabitants.

 

[ _Carl Manfred, Leo Manfred, Unit PL600 ‘Simon’_ ]

 

He frowns. No alert for strangers?

 

//Identify location of Leo Manfred

 

 _[Leo Manfred, current location: kitchen_ ]

 

Ah. Simon pads to the kitchen and turns on the light. Leo yelps in surprise and pivots, dropping what glass he’d managed to pick up back onto the floor.

“Holy shit Simon, I almost had a heart attack!” There’s broken glass at his feet and a few drops of bright red blood. Simon grabs a tea towel and reaches for Leo’s hand, inspecting the small cuts before applying pressure with the cloth to stop the bleeding.

“I’m sorry I neglected to leave you water on your bedside table.” He apologies, berating himself mentally for slipping up in his care.

“S’fine, I’m a bit hungry too so I thought I’d rummage around for something to eat at the same time.” Leo gestures at the open fridge and the open pantry with his other hand. He’s trembling, and his forehead is slick with sweat. His eyes are glassy and he keeps darting his glances all around the room.

“Leo, please sit in the dining room. I’ll bring you some water and some dry crackers.” Simon keeps his voice low and calming. The other man winces, tugging his hair.

“Fuck I’m just-” his breathing is laborious, his words hissed through clenched teeth, “I feel like I’m freezing and on fire at the same time.”

“You’re suffering w-”

“Withdrawals yeah yeah I know.” He inhales sharply, trying to steel himself before he groans. “Fuck my brain won’t shut up I just- I just need a bit, I need a bit just a small bit fuck I’m going crazy-!”

 

Leo’s care plan lists these symptoms, preparing Simon for such things digitally but seeing it somehow feels entirely different. He takes a clean tea towel and runs it under water, using it to gently wipe Leo’s face and hairline.

“Leo please come with me, you need to sit down.”

“It’s inside you.” He whispers, eyes wide and dazed. “You’re full of it- processed thirium. The pure stuff is useless it’s like acetone it’s no use I used to steal those foil pouches they’re not the same not the same.” His eyes lock onto Simon as he mutters, hands opening and closing into tight fists. “But androids. Androids have processed thirium you guys do something fancy to it when it’s inside you.”

“Do you want my thirium, Leo?” Simon asks calmly. “You’re trying to break free of this addiction, Leo, are you sure?”

He can’t answer that, crumpling to his knees with a frustrated groan as he clutches his head. “Shut up shut up!”

 

There’s a packet of dry crackers in the pantry, the pepper kind that pairs well with cheese. Simon plucks those out and fetches a clean, whole glass to fill with water.

“Leo please come with me, you need to sit down.” He repeats himself and gestures at the crackers and water. “I’ll bring these to the dining room and fetch you a blanket as well. Your system is in shock.”

“Would Carl even miss you if I broke you open?” Leo gets to his feet shakily, eyes wild. “You’re not even Sean, Sean will be back he’s the android caretaker not you.”

“He wouldn’t miss me.” Simon states calmly, reaching over to the knife block and sliding out a medium-sized blade. “When I pull out my thirium pump, jam this diagonally to the upper left. It will sever the heart and disrupt the thirium flow. Be careful, it’ll be like an arterial spray.”

There’s an elusive moment of lucidity and Leo stares at him in horror as Simon hands him the knife and pulls the pyjama sweater off.

“I’ll only have thirty seconds once the pump is out before my system shuts down, so be quick.” The grooves of his fingertips catch on the circular edge of the regulator. “If you wait too long the thirium flow will halt and you’ll have to drain my system manually.”

Carl won’t miss him, he’s sure of it, but there’d be a mess to clean and Simon wouldn’t want to inconvenience him like that. Thirium evaporates, at least, but a male android body weighs roughly as much as the average grown man. Perhaps he’ll upload instructions for Sean to salvage parts from his body and take them to Jericho for the handful of fellow struggling PL600s before disposing of his shell. Yes, a sound idea.

 

“Simon-” Leo’s voice breaks and the knife clatters to the floor, “fuck, Simon, no- no I’m- I’m so fucking sorry, fuck I’m sorry I’m sorry!”  

He’s not sure why he feels so detached, so ready to die, but deep down Simon knows it’s because he never thought he’d live this long. Leo buries his face in his hands and sobs, and Simon leans over and embraces him.

“God I want to fucking die this is the fucking worst.” Leo cries, clutching Simon tightly.

“But it’s one more day, one more victory, Leo.” Simon soothes, rubbing his back. “You’re not doing this for Carl, you’re doing this for you. It’s your victory.”

They stay this way for a while, Simon rubbing Leo’s back to soothe him as Leo lets himself release his pent up emotions.

 

After a few minutes he pulls away.

“H-hey do we have milk in the fridge?” Leo rubs his eyes, sniffling. “Can I get something hot to drink instead?”

“I can make you a hot chocolate, how does that sound?”

“Yeah, um, yeah that’s perfect.” He clumsily reaches for the box of crackers and the glass of water, taking careful measured steps to go sit at the dining table.

There’s milk but no powdered hot chocolate, though Simon does find a nice block of dark chocolate instead. He pours milk into a saucepan and sets it on the stove with the fire on low before following Leo into the main living space. There’s a waffle blanket throw on the couch which Simon grabs so he can gently tuck it around Leo’s trembling shoulders.

“My dad’s old and weak and needs care, and you’re stuck here looking after me too.” Leo mutters, teeth clacking against the rim of the glass as he sips the water.

“I’m not stuck here, Leo.” Simon corrects him, arranging the blanket so it’s wrapped around him comfortably. “I’m here because I choose to be. I’m helping you and your father because I want to.” _Because I’m of no use to Markus or anyone otherwise._

He leaves to check on the milk, breaking the chocolate into small pieces and stirring it with a wooden spoon when the milk’s hot enough. A dash of cinnamon and chilli powder are swirled in before Simon turns off the stove and pours the hot chocolate into a mug.

 

“He’d miss you, you know.” Leo rubs his eyes as fresh tired tears spill from them. “Dad would miss you, Simon. He likes you a lot already.”

“Carl is very kind.” Simon takes the mostly empty glass and hands him the mug. “And he cares deeply for your well being, Leo. He wants you to be healthy.”

“I’m tired of disappointing him.” There’s a weariness in his voice, in his body language Simon feels down in his core. “I almost got Markus killed that night because I was so desperate for more money so I could get a hit. Fuck, I mean, he _sort of died_ didn’t he? I watched it, you know, all of it. All the coverage on the news, all the videos online.” Leo sips at the hot chocolate, and the smudge of it on his upper lip makes him look a decade younger and smaller and more vulnerable. “I had nothing else to do when I woke up in hospital. They told me dad visited but he got sicker and couldn’t visit anymore. So I just watched what Markus was doing. I saw him demonstrating, I saw them fire into the crowd. I didn’t know, you know? I just thought you guys were machines, I didn’t think you were…”

“Alive.” Simon finishes, Markus’ words on his lips. “We are alive.”

“And that whole last stand with the Jericho Four, Joss covered it live and I watched them just gun androids down for no reason. A-and they looked, y’know, _scared_ and _real_ and-”

“I thought it was the end.” Simon takes a seat beside him. “They threw a grenade into our barricade and then there was just chaos. Gunfire and screaming. They backed us into a corner and I thought ‘this is where we die.’”

Leo’s eyes widen and he almost chokes on the gulp of chocolate.

“That was you? The blond one was- is you?”

“Yes. The tall dark one is Josh, the woman with auburn hair is North, and with Markus our leader, that makes us the Jericho Four.” Absently he presses his fingerpads on the table to pluck up the cracker crumbs, wiping them on a napkin for disposal later. When he meets Leo’s gaze, the young man is looking at him with equal parts awe and agitation.

“I too am a caretaker model, but where Markus was made specifically for looking after Carl Manfred, my series was made for looking after children and families.” Simon explains, hoping to answer his questions before he asks them. “It’s why I’m here. Markus is handling the fate and future of our people, he can’t stay here even if he wants to. Your father’s assigned AP700 has a friend recovering in Jericho, so I stepped in while he stays with him.”

“Will you go back to Jericho?” Leo gives the mug a bit of a swirl to keep the chocolate from settling, and he stares into the murky liquid instead of keeping Simon’s gaze. “Will Markus be angry if he comes home and finds me here?”

“I don’t know.” Simon answers both questions truthfully. “I really don’t know, Leo. But when Markus comes home, I think the two of you need to sit down and talk things through.”

“No, he has every right to hate me I got him killed- or shutdown or whatever.” Leo shakes his head in frustration. “There’s nothing to talk about, I’m just thankful dad hasn’t disowned me after all the shit I’ve put him and Markus through.”

“Then perhaps the Manfreds need to sit down and talk things through- all three of you.” Simon states matter of factly. “It’s almost 3am, Leo. Best you go back to bed and get some rest.”

Leo nods numbly, handing over the now drained mug and tugging the blanket around himself tightly as he gets to his feet. “This- this isn’t who I am, Simon. I swear I’m not this fucked up all the time, I’m gonna get better, I’m gonna prove it.”

“I know you will, Leo.” Simon reaches out and smoothes Leo’s damp hair away from his forehead. “Recovery is a journey you must undertake of your own free will, but that doesn’t mean you’re alone.”

His bottom lip quivers and Simon wraps his arms around him again as Leo gives a few tired sobs. “Fuck, I think at this rate I’ll just cry all the drugs out of my system.”

“If only it worked that way.” Simon sighs, keeping his voice light and playful. “I could line up a marathon of sad films on Netflix and animal rescue playlists and you’d be done in a weekend.”

Leo laughs, and though the sound is scratchy with disuse, it’s genuine. Simon considers it a victory, and sends the young man to bed.

 

* * *

 

When Simon goes to wake Carl later that morning, it’s clear the old man isn’t doing well. He’s pale, breathing shallowly and sluggish to respond. Simon ups the temperature in Carl’s bedroom, and adds a thick plush quilt atop the bedcovers.

“Carl, I’m going to give you your medicine.” He keeps his tone even to mask the rising panic in inside. The old man barely manages to nod, and Simon takes that as his cue to push up Carl’s sleeve so he can press the hypodermic syringe to his skin. His arms are covered in intricate black tattoos, slightly faded with age but still bold enough to admire. There are stories to be told about them, and Simon knows it’s up to him to ensure Carl is well enough to tell them. He stays with him even as he hears Leo stir across the hall in his room. Simon should have completed Carl’s morning routine and started on breakfast by now, but instead he holds Carl’s hand and monitors his vitals.

It’s an agonising hour before Carl responds to his medication, opening his eyes and blinking sleepily up at him.

“God I hate winter.” Carl grumbles, and Simon manages a tired relieved chuckle.

“I definitely agree.” He props a pillow behind his back and helps him sit up. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m functioning at 45%.” An irritated sigh. “Humans are such fragile machines, Simon. So much upkeep.” Carl closes his eyes, and Simon lets him doze for a few more minutes before he wakes again.

“Ah Christ I need to pee.” Carl grumbles. “Alright get me out of bed.”

 

By the time Carl is ready for breakfast, Simon’s schedule has been thrown off by 86 minutes. To his surprise when he enters the kitchen, Leo is making pancakes.

“Thanks for last night, Simon.” There are dark smudges under his eyes, but they’re no longer glazed and unfocused. “I’m sorry I fucked up but I’ll do better, I promise.”

“You’re doing great, Leo.” He squeezes his shoulder. “Here, how about I take over and you get some coffee ready?”

“Sure.”

 

[ _Carl, there are guests at the door._ ]

 

“Guests?” Leo echoes, pausing at the coffee machine. “Markus and your Jericho friends, maybe?”

“The manor would have let Markus in.” Simon frowns, turning off the stove. “I better see who it is.”

He reaches out mentally and connects with the A.I.

 

//Security, identify: human or android?

 

[ _Androids; Unit AX700, Unit AP700, Unit TW400_ ]

 

Messengers from Jericho? Before he reaches the door, Leo cuts in front of him.

“Stay with dad.” A heartbeat. “Please?”

“Of course.” Simon steps away and heads back to the living room where Carl looks at him quizzically.

“Simon?”

“Leo wants me here with you.” He explains, resting a hand on Carl’s shoulder.

 

There’s a commotion, sudden and loud with raised voices shouting and cursing. There’s a thud; the sound of a body hitting the floor.

“Hey- no! No come back!” Leo’s voice is muffled, and in an instant three male androids are in the doorway pointing guns at Carl.

“I told you he’d be here!” The AX700 sneers at the other two, and Simon is stunned to see the AP700 wearing his face.

“We’re sorry to do this to you old man,” the AP700 drawls, “but Markus isn’t listening to us so we’re going to send him a pretty clear message.”

“Boys, I don’t know what you’ve been through,” Carl holds up his palms, “but I know Markus is a good listener. He’d never ignore what anyone has to say.”

“Look at this place! How can he go on and on about slavery and injustice when he lived here?” The AX700 ignores Carl, gesturing around him. “What a spoiled brat, talking about hardship and sacrifice when all he’s done is look after a rich old man!”

“He was shot, torn apart and chucked into a junkyard.” They pivot at the voice, and there’s Leo with a bloody nose and busted lip. “The police shot him on sight and threw him out like trash. He’s suffered plenty.” There’s agony in Leo’s eyes that has nothing to do with his facial injuries.

“Leave Markus and my dad alone.”

“Your _dad_?” The AP700 echoes. “Fuck, Gideon, he’s a Manfred too! Two for one!” They both laugh, and it’s then that Simon notices the TW400 is looking straight at him. He hasn’t interacted with many TW400s, in fact he can only recall one by name.

 

 _Oh_.

 

“Mason.” The TW400 freezes, and Simon confirms the android as the same TW400 from Jericho. “Mason what are you doing?”

“Hey, shut up!” The AP700 points the gun at him. “You have no LED you’re a deviant, so you should know better! Humans won’t ever accept us, Markus is wasting our time!”

Simon stands in front of Carl, blocking him from them. “Markus is fighting for our right to exist and you want to thank him by killing his father and brother?”

“Markus is just stalling the inevitable- we are the superior race! We outclass humans in every single way, we’re better than them!” The AX700 shouts, gesturing with the gun menacingly. “We’re the next step of evolution, why the fuck should we compromise?!”

“Mason, what are you doing?” Simon repeats, focusing on the now visibly trembling TW400.

“This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong-” Mason shakes his head rapidly, “that’s Simon. That’s _Simon_. He saved us, remember? We can’t-”

The other two androids stare at him in shock. “Simon?”

“Oh fuck.” The AP700 lowers his gun immediately. “Oh fuck, no- Simon we-”

“You will leave this house and never come back.” Simon puts steel in his voice. “If I ever catch wind of you three advocating for such despicable values again I will send the ex Deviant Hunter himself after you. Markus’ family is _my_ family, and that means they’re Jericho’s family too.”

He looks Mason square in the eyes, and the TW400 buckles. “No, never again Simon never ever I’m so sorry.”

Simon hopes Mason is thinking of cold Jericho nights in the crumbling freighter, hopes he remembers sharing his tattered coat with Simon after the PL600 had spent the rainy day scavenging parts in the junkyard to replace Mason’s malfunctioning mobility chip and fetch blue blood. Simon hopes Mason sees he believes in Markus’ vision for their future enough to die for it.

Mason backs out of the room, tears welling in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry Simon.”

“Go help our people at Jericho.” Simon commands. “They need blue blood and biocomponents, and androids willing and able to fetch them.”

The three of them leave, and Simon feels his stress levels plummet.

 

“Simon you just saved our lives.” Carl whispers behind him.

“I just reminded them of where they came from,” Simon shakes his head, “how far we’ve come. I’ve known Mason for ten months now, long before Markus came to Jericho. We can’t have survived all those horrors just to end everything here.”

“You saved our lives.” Leo insists, stepping forward to grip him by the shoulders. “Simon, they would’ve shot us.”

“I’d never let that happen.” The words are as firm as his belief in them. “Take a seat Leo, I’ll fetch the first aid kit.”

There’s first aid kits dotted all over the house, all of them containing not only basic items but also Carl’s medication for emergencies. Simon fetches the one in the kitchen and brings it into the living room to where Leo is now seated on the couch with Carl by his side.

“It’s not broken,” Simon dabs at Leo’s bloodied nose with gauze moistened with antiseptic, “so everything will heal just fine.”

 

[ _Carl, there is a guest at the door._ ]

 

This time Simon doesn’t wait. He strides to the door and yanks it open, stern words ready on his tongue.

“Oh thank fucking ra9!” North barrels him over, arms squeezing him tight. “Fuck, I ran here as fast as I could, I’ve been trying to trail them all morning!”

He’s flat on his back, dazed as his vision fills with auburn hair and the realisation the ceiling of the manor is painted with art too.

“We’re ok North.” Simon pats her head. “I recognised one of them and talked them down. They won’t do it again.”

“I overheard them earlier.” The other android sits up and pulls Simon upright. “I wanted to stop them before they left Jericho but they got into a taxi before I reached them. I didn’t know where Carl lived I only saw it partly in Markus’ memories so I had to run half of the way here.” She slumps against him and Simon rests his cheek atop her head.

“We’re ok, North.” He reassures her again. “Is everything alright at Jericho?”

“It’s chaos but of the organised kind.” North stands and offers her hand to Simon, helping him back onto his feet. “Markus and Josh talked to the President and they’ve agreed to meet at the White House in two weeks. We have Detroit to ourselves until then.” She pauses as she takes in her surroundings properly. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah I know.” Simon laughs, ushering her towards the main living space. “Come on I’ll introduce you. Carl, Leo, this is North.”

At the mention of Leo North visibly stiffens, her face contorting to one of fury. She manages two steps towards the young man before Simon grabs her wrist.

“Wait, no, North it’s ok-”

“It’s not fucking okay Simon!” North yells, snatching her wrist out of his grasp and jabbing her finger accusingly in Leo’s direction. “You’re the bastard who-”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m-” Leo holds up his palms, wincing, “I’m going to therapy, I’m not like that anymore I swear! I’m getting better!”

“North, please.” Simon keeps his touch featherlight, stepping between them. “Please, he’s okay.”

“You don’t know that Simon, you don’t know anything!” North hisses, though the fight is mostly gone from her. “You haven’t seen it like I have. I saw what happened that night.”

“How could you have seen it?” Leo demands, voice hurt. “You weren’t there! You can’t know what happened!”  

“Markus showed me his memories, I saw everything Leo so you can shove it.” North shouts, tone hostile as she crosses her arms.

 

“Well, seeing as I was also there that night,” Carl begins gently, “and watched both my boys almost die I can safely say I’m thankful they’re both alive and working towards very admirable goals.”

North bites her lip, stepping back and looking away.

“Come here please?” He holds his hands out to her, and after a moment of hesitation North places her hands in his. “It’s nice to meet you North, thank you for your concern.”

“I know what you mean to Markus.” North doesn’t meet his eyes, staring instead at their hands. “I couldn’t have led our people the way he did. I can see where he gets his compassion from now, though.”

“Thank you my dear.” Carl squeezes her hands. “Did you want to stay a while? Leo and I are about to have- well it’s brunch now, so you and Simon can catch up?”

“Um, okay sure?”

 

“How long has it been since your last standby session?” Simon asks as North slips her hand into his.

“...um-”

“Right.” Simon sighs, leading her out of the living room and towards Markus’ room. “Well, you’re going to take a nap before you go back to Jericho.”

“Simon I’m not a child.” North rolls her eyes but allows herself to be led.

“I know that, but I also know we’re exhausting ourselves and we’re no use to Jericho if we’re not functioning well.” He explains, releasing her hand so he can rummage through the drawers and pull out a clean pair of pyjamas.

“...Of course Markus wears pyjamas and sleeps in his own bed.” North groans, snatching the clothes from him. “Will you stay?”

“As long as Sean needs to stay with Lachlan at Jericho I’ll stay here.” Simon nods.

“No I meant,” she chews her bottom lip, “here with me? I think the old man and the brat can handle loading the dishwasher by themselves y’know.”

“Do you want me to stay?” He doesn’t mean for his voice to waver the way it does, uneven with self doubt and worry. She nods, and he turns to face the door so she can get changed.

North tugs him to lie atop the covers, and they face each other almost nose to nose.

“You wanted Markus to leave me behind on the ship.” Not a question; a statement.

“You wanted Markus to shoot me on the rooftop.” He counters, level and smooth. “I know why you said it.”

“Because we’re not important.” North creases her brows, lips tight. “Because Markus had to survive even at the cost of our lives. He’s all that matters.”

“I know.” Simon bumps their noses together. “I know, North.”

“I would have led us to war. Millions of us would have died had I got my way.” Her voice is whisper soft as she leans her forehead against his.

“And I would have let us fade away, stuck in a timeless refuge.” He rests his palm against her cheek, thumbing away a stray tear. “We’re here now, because of him. We owe it to him, to help fight in a different way.”

“You’re such a sap Simon.” North rolls her eyes again, mouth twitching into a grin.

“You love me for it.” Simon counters airily, and she giggles.

The sound is delightful, and he preserves the memory carefully to store in his heart.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've got beef with my daughter North I'll fight you in the parking lot


	5. juvenilia

It’s a couple of hours after lunch when he sends North back to Jericho well rested. She presses a kiss to his cheek before climbing into the cab Carl insisted on calling for her. The manor feels lighter somehow, the ill air and threat of violence banished by North’s presence and exchanged with something a little giddy in her wake.

Simon busies himself with cleaning and tidying, the motions automatic in the literal sense but also rather soothing in its familiarity. The manor is large and airy with many rooms and many things to clean, and Simon goes through the well-practiced motions. Carl has art everywhere, in every room and Simon takes extra time when dusting the tops of their frames or canvases. More than anything, Carl seems to prioritise colour; none of the canvases are monochromatic nor do they depict anything pastoral or idyllic as per the usual art kept by the average household. The main living space has sculptures dotted here and there, as well as a glass cabinet of curiosities. Simon’s never had to dust a skull before but he does it with the utmost care.

“Alas poor Yorick-”

“I knew him, Horatio,” Simon answers automatically as Carl chuckles behind him, “a fellow of infinite jest.”

“Be careful with my good friend there, Simon.” Carl wheels himself to his side. “Edward won’t take too kindly to being dropped.”

“Edward, sir?” Simon gently sets the skull back on the cabinet.

“Edward Giardina,” Carl picks up the skull, rubbing his thumb along its cheekbone, “professor of 18th Century literature and my dearest childhood friend.” He sighs, and there’s something wistful, something melancholic in his tone. “We very nearly almost got married- well I mean, it wasn’t legal back then but if I were to look back on my entire adult life and choose who I were to marry, it would have been him if the cancer hadn’t taken him too early. Araminta would be a close second though she never really was the marrying sort.”    

“The professor bequeathed his skull to you?”  

“Yes,” Carl gives a small laugh, “the rest of his body was donated to science as per his wishes.”

There’s a love story unshared, untold as Carl looks at the skull fondly.

“There’s something incredibly...romantic about that,” Simon dares to broach before hurriedly adding “in a gothic romance sort of way.”

“I mean if Mary Shelley can keep her husband’s heart.” Carl shrugs nonchalantly. There are two more skulls sitting on one of the bookshelves, and Carl laughs loudly when he catches Simon’s gaze. “No no, those aren’t other lovers Simon those are miniature sculptures by Ron Mueck. The originals are about the size of a car but he made a pair of smaller ones for private collection.”

“Human skulls are all unique,” he helps Carl place the skull back down, “there’s nothing unique about an android skull except for our serial number printed on our left cheekbone. And we don’t really have skulls per se our heads are 3D printed in one piece.”

“I vaguely remember Markus telling me androids have a memory chip,” Carl hums thoughtfully, “that’s probably the most unique part of you.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Simon smiles. “I suppose that would be our equivalent gift to bequeath a beloved; here is the part that makes me, me.”

Carl observes him for a while as he dusts each shelf’s contents diligently.

“It’s a good thing you boys will be around for each other forever, and won’t have to worry about bequeathing a part of yourselves.” He rolls his wheelchair so he’s by the chess set, the afternoon sun streaming through the window and casting the pieces bronze. Simon sets down the duster and takes a seat opposite him.

“Perhaps Markus will be around forever, but certainly not me.” Simon corrects him, taking a rook and moving it forward to start the game. “In your entire adulthood Carl, how many cellphones have you owned?”

The question catches the other man off guard, and Carl toys with the chess piece in his hand instead of placing it on the board.

“At least a dozen?”

“And why did you buy new phones?” Simon prompts as Carl sets the rook down in place.

“Because they worked better than the old ones- had some fancy feature the old one didn’t have.”

“Did you ever keep one for a while?” A nod. “What happened?”

“It just slowed down too much.” The moment of understanding is visible on Carl’s face, spreading through his features and widening his eyes. 

“Planned obsolescence isn’t just for phones, sir.” Simon explains as he moves another piece forward. “Sean’s model, the AP700, is the model replacing me. You met one of them with my face this morning. I am obsolete. CyberLife no longer manufacture me and many of my parts.”

“That’s…” Carl struggles to find the right word. “Cruel.”

“It wasn’t cruel when androids weren’t seen as sentient.” Simon looks at his hands, Carl’s work now missing in patches, smudged and chipped. “No one thought we had any opinion on the matter, until perhaps the day PL600 Daniel learned he was to be replaced and shot his owner, taking the daughter hostage and ultimately setting all this into motion by bringing deviancy into the spotlight.”

“And now humans have to come to terms with the fact you are all alive.” Carl laces his fingers together, elbows on the table.

“I don’t think it was ever uncertain for you, was it sir?” 

“No.” There’s no hesitation, and the smile is both earnest and proud. “No I knew there was something special about Markus the moment we met. Something about those eyes of his, the way he looked at the world. I couldn’t treat him any other way but kindly, as an intelligent sentient being. ”

“Your kindness is the reason why we’re here today, with the freedom he won for us.” The game of chess between them is long over before it’s barely begun, as Carl reaches for his hands. He rubs his thumb over the missing patches of colour.

“Markus said you’re here because your damaged biocomponent can’t deal with the cold?”

“PL600s are temperature sensitive.” Simon admits, the shame a lead weight in his throat. “We have a biocomponent no other model has, and mine was damaged a long time ago. It’s not crucial, so I haven’t sought to replace it.”

“Well, it’s a good thing my house is heated.” Carl declares, giving his hands a squeeze. “Us oldies can keep toasty warm in here.” Simon laughs as Carl gives him a wink. The heaviness from their conversation dissipates, and Simon takes that as his cue to leave.

“I’ll start on dinner now, sir. Any requests?”

“In my wine cabinet is a 2020 Merlot.” Carl explains, flicking his eyes to the kitchen. “Why don’t you pop that open and make a beef stew? Weather definitely calls for something hearty.”

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

It’s late, dinner long eaten and the dishes in the washer. Carl is still at the dining table, a box of pastels open as he sketches. Simon finds himself walking over to where Leo is sitting on the spiral staircase by the giraffe, a stack of books on the step beside him. He’s pale but not feverish, flighty but not delirious. Simon offers him a smile.

“Hey Simon. Thanks for dinner.” Leo offers a tired grin in return.

“You’re welcome. What are you reading?”

“There’s a whole bookshelf on photography.” Leo tilts the book on his lap so Simon can see the cover. “Thought I’d make my way through them.”

“Do you like photography?” Simon takes a careful seat on a lower step. Leo is quiet for a while, darting glances over at Carl on the other side of the room.

“Yeah I uh, I really like it.” He looks back down at the book on his lap, but Simon can tell he’s not reading anything. Patience is what Leo needs, and Simon offers it freely with no judgement; that they are strangers is perhaps the most beneficial factor in their budding friendship.

“My mom got me a camera for my 13th birthday.” His voice is low and nervous, and Simon nods to show he’s listening. “I always took photos using her phone so she got me a camera to stop me using up all her phone memory. We’d choose a few every month and have them printed.”

“Do you still take photos, Leo?” 

“I pawned the camera for drug money.” Leo gives a bitter laugh, eyes glassy with tears. “I held onto it for so long. I told myself I’d sell everything else except that. But when you’re on that stuff you don’t think about consequences, you’re just desperate for the next hit. The fucking camera wasn’t even worth much money but it meant the world to me.”

Simon reaches over and holds his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I didn’t ask if you still had the camera, Leo. I asked if you still took photos.” 

Leo blinks the unshed tears away, scrubbing over his eyes with the back of his hand. “I mean, yeah just on my phone. I post some online sometimes.”

“May I see?” Simon asks, and Leo digs his phone out of his pocket after a moment’s hesitation. 

“They’re not very good, I mean, I sort of just take photos when I think something looks neat.” The young man mumbles, opening the gallery on his phone and handing it to Simon. There’s no general theme to the photos, some are cropped macros, some are cityscape snapshots but Simon can see that Leo favours colour too.

“Colour is important to you.” Simon notes, gesturing at the photo onscreen; a snapshot of Bellini Paints from the outside, zoomed in so all the rows and rows of pigments were in focus. Leo shrugs, clearly unused to someone analysing his work.

“Yeah, I guess?”

“You share the trait with your father.” Simon smiles, handing him back the phone. “You have a very good eye for colour, Leo.”

He lets out a breathy laugh. “I never thought an android would be a fan of my work.” Leo cradles the phone in both hands, brows creasing. “I uh, never thought anyone would like it, in general you know.”

He looks nervously over again to where Carl is lost in his work, pastels scattered across the table as he sketches something vividly. 

“Does Carl know you like photography?”

“Dad barely knows anything about me, Simon.” There’s bitterness in his tone, but it’s mostly disappointment. “For the first 16 years of my life I was just a monthly child support cheque.”

Simon waits, letting Leo unpackage the memories, letting him brace himself to tell them.

“My mom was a model and Carl was there during fashion week in New York. They hooked up, she got pregnant and decided to keep me. Since Carl’s from Detroit I don’t think he ever had any intention of raising me. I don’t think mom ever thought Carl would be in our lives either.” Leo bites his lip, flicking through his phone gallery idly. “I mean, we never struggled. She was a great model booked every season and for ad campaigns, and Carl always sent money. I grew up in Chelsea, went to school and all that. She never spoke about him, just told me my dad was some artist she knew.”

He shows Simon a photo of a woman with her arms around a younger Leo, beaming proudly as he smiles at the camera. “For my 16th birthday we went to the MoMA because they were doing a photography exhibit on Detroit. I guess she sort of wanted to ease me into the truth. There was a portrait of Carl shot by one of my favourite photographers. ‘That’s your father’, mom said. And she took me through into another room where they have three of my dad’s huge paintings, the ones that take up nearly an entire wall. ‘Carl Manfred is your father’, she said.” 

“Were you upset she hid his identity for so long?” 

No.” Leo shakes his head, bottom lip quivering. “No I just- I felt so betrayed. I knew who Carl Manfred was I learned about him in school, I watched his interviews. He always spoke about his work with a great big smile, and I could tell he poured his heart and soul into his works I just-”

He loses the battle to keep his tears at bay, rubbing at his eyes furiously as the tears slip down his cheeks. “I just kept asking myself how come he’s so proud of all his creations but he’s not proud of me? Didn’t he make me too? Aren’t I one of his works?”

“Leo…” Carl’s deep rasp causes them both to snap up in surprise, neither of them having noticed the older man had abandoned the table and come across to them.

“I moved to Detroit for college and I thought maybe then you’d want me around but I was like a guest in your house every fortnight. I never felt like I belonged.” Leo’s trying to glare at him, though much of the hostility is dampened by his sobs. “You got into that accident and I so badly wanted to be with you but you shut everyone out. I didn’t see you for a year and when I did you- you had a fucking  _ android _ at your side! I never hated Markus, dad, I just hated that you let him be there for you instead of me!”

Simon remains frozen, caught between them as the dam holding back Leo’s emotions breaks. 

“Leo, I’m so sorry.” Carl opens his arms and Leo almost stumbles down the stairs to collapse against him. “I’m so sorry my boy. I didn’t want anyone to see me then, I was a broken man full of rage. When Elijah showed up with Markus, I didn’t let them in either. It took a month of convincing via video calls before I finally let him introduce Markus to me.”

“But why didn’t you want  _ me _ , dad?” Leo begs, hands clenching Carl’s shirt front.

“Because I thought I was going to die, Leo. I didn’t want your few memories of me to be of some bitter, angry cripple.” Carl embraces him tightly, rubbing his back. “I didn’t make any effort to reach out to you, I know this is my fault. I’m so sorry Leo.”

“Carl,” Simon interrupts them, tone gentle, “Leo has something to show you.”

“...I do-?” Leo pulls back from his father’s embrace, sniffling loudly. 

“Yes Leo.” Simon gestures at his phone. “Why don’t you show Carl your photos?”

Leo looks half his age suddenly, his eyes wide and his brows creased as he fidgets anxiously. “Nah, I don’t think you’d want to-”

“May I, Leo?” Carl insists, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“...Well, um, sure I guess? I mean, I’m not a professional I’m not really that good at it I just-” 

“He’s very good at it.” Simon says firmly, standing up and carefully passing them. He meets Carl’s gaze and nods. “Leo’s got a good eye for colour, just like his father.”

Simon leaves them to it, leaves the Manfreds to huddle by the spiral staircase- Leo hesitantly, painfully shy, showing his work to his father, and Carl, desperate in his longing to mend the bridge between them, absorbs each and every gesture to heart.

 

He makes an exit into the foyer, patting down his windbreaker and finding the small precious item in the left pocket; his LED. After all the action had died down on the Stratford Tower rooftop and Simon embarked on the tedious, perilous return to Jericho he had to remove it to blend in. Sure he shared a face with thousands of others but at a quick glance, no LED was safer than an LED at that point. For some reason he hadn’t been able to throw it away like the others had. North had piffed hers as far as she could off the bow of Jericho and into the canal. Josh had simply dropped his into the water without fanfare. But Simon kept his in his pocket, running his fingers over it when he got anxious and using it to ground himself. It had been a part of him for so long it feels wrong to discard it.

There’s a mirror by the coat hooks, and Simon takes a good look at himself for the first time in years. There’s that same face Cyberlife seems fond of, enough to use it for two succeeding models after the PL600. The same blond hair, the same blue eyes, the same caucasian features. His fingers trace the ghost of a ring on his temple. The dermal nano liquid hides the indentation where the LED was once installed, but Simon can feel it. They fought for the right to exist. Their blood was spilled, bright blue on snow, for the right to say they are alive. He is not ashamed to be easily recognised as an android. He is not ashamed of his existence, obsolete though he may be.

Simon presses the LED back into his temple. It flickers to life briefly, before glowing a steady blue. He goes to bed.

 

* * *

 

Carl sits up in bed, waiting for his evening medication to lull him to sleep. Instead of Simon, it had been Leo who helped him through his nighttime routine and though both of them are decades too old for it, Carl had kissed his brow and bid him goodnight. They have much to catch up on, and much more to mend but Carl will not shy from this challenge, not when he has his family to live for; his two boys and a new addition too.

He sighs.

Reaching over to his bedside table, he picks up his phone and scrolls through his contacts, eventually settling on one and hitting ‘call’.

_ “Good evening Carl, this is quite the surprise.” _ A male voice greets on the other line.

“I’m not disturbing you am I, Elijah?”

_ “Oh never, dear friend. What can I do for you?” _

 

* * *

 

When Simon wakes the next morning, it’s to the sensation of someone very gently tracing his LED. One blue eye and one green is what he sees when he opens his own eyes, and Markus smiles sleepily at him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Simon echoes dumbly. “What time did you come home?”

“Oh uh, around 4am.” Markus smirks sheepishly. “I’d had enough of trying to sleep in an office chair.”

“Have you slept at all?” Simon frowns, trying to focus on their conversation and not on the fact Markus is the other warm body under the covers with him.

“I managed a short rest cycle.” He confesses with a wince. “I forgot whenever I come home my system automatically syncs me back onto Carl’s medical schedule so it woke me up now.”

“Sleep, Markus,” Simon urges, “I’ll take care of Carl’s morning routine. You need your rest.”

Markus merely hums at that, turning his hand so the back of his fingers brush against Simon’s cheek.

“You put your LED back.”

“I did.” Simon nods, Markus so close to him the tip of their noses brush with the gesture. “I’m not ashamed to be marked as an android. We fought to be recognised as  _ living  _ beings, not  _ human  _ beings.”

Markus smiles at that, one of his thousand kilowatt smiles that radiate joy. “Yes we did, Simon.”

His systems are still coming back online, Simon reasons for himself, that’s how he finds the bravery to touch the corner of that thousand kilowatt smile and run his thumb along the outline of his bottom lip. There’s a fleeting brush of insanity, of utter glee and maniacal chaos in Simon’s thoughts.

_ I want to kiss you, _ he thinks. 

“Get some sleep.” Is what he says instead. 

“Okay.” Markus sighs, his lips still curved in a smile thought softer this time, softer and sleepier as he closes his eyes. 

_ I want to kiss you, _ Simon thinks as he carefully gets out of bed and tugs the covers over Markus.

“I’ll see you later.” Is what he says instead. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dabbid Gage never gave Leo any backstory or decent characterisation so I guess I have to do everything myself around here. Stay tuned for 3 Manfreds and 1 Simon under the same roof in the next chapter.


	6. ode to pity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mentions the Burbank family briefly, who are from my other story [icing sugar]

Into a large bowl he adds flour, eggs, salt, vanilla extract, and melted butter before securing it to the stand mixer and setting it on low. A sliver of butter is smoothed onto a crêpe pan over a low flame before Simon carefully spoons some of the now fluffy batter into a thin circular shape.

A punnet of strawberries await hulling and slicing, and a tub of double cream awaits whisking.

 

The ghosts of his memories play out like an old flicker picture, and beside him stands Keelan Burbank one cold November morning.

_ “This seems a bit...excessive, sir.” Simon hears himself commenting as he flips the crêpe to let it briefly cook on its other side. Keelan only laughs, continuing to slice the strawberries carefully. _

_ “No, you see Simon this is how my ma used to break bad news to us- you made something grand for breakfast and that way even though it’s bad news you still enjoy the breakfast.” _

_ “So this will console them that you’ll be away this weekend instead of taking them to the movies?” _

_ “Yes. It’ll tide the girls over until I can take them out next weekend instead.” _

_ “An excellent idea, sir.” _

 

A stack of ribbon-thin crêpes sit atop a plate, and Simon covers them with a clean tea-towel to keep them warm. The strawberries are sliced thinly and the cream is whisked into soft peaks before being set aside. 

He brushes aside the ghosts, the warmth of Keelan’s smile and the delighted gasps of Evangeline and Vivienne when they see their breakfast spread, their conflicted faces as their father breaks the news and their determined expressions as they eat. A lifetime ago Simon had been happy, blissfully happy. Perhaps he could be again?

He passes Leo upstairs on his way to wake Carl. “Good morning Leo.”

“Hey Simon.” The younger man barely stifles a yawn in time, clumsily tugging the couch throw blanket dragging behind him so it wraps tightly around his shoulders.

“I’ve made breakfast, so please head to the dining room.” He coaxes, gesturing at the stairs. “I’ll go wake your father.”

“‘Kay.” A curious frown. “You have the spinny thing in your head again.”

His hand automatically reaches up to touch his LED at the very mention of it. “Yes.”

“I uh,” Leo scratches his nape, “I didn’t know you could put it back? I thought it sorta popped off like a bottecap.”

“Less like a bottlecap, more like a press stud.” Simon corrects with a small smile. “It’s a diode that snaps into place.”

“Huh.” Leo nods. “Neat.” 

 

He wanders down the stairs and Simon traces his LED again, imagining Markus’ warm touch from before. The memory brings the hint of a smile on his face, one that Carl notices as Simon helps him sit up in bed.

“Oh he’s back is he?”

“Pardon?” Simon pauses, hypodermic syringe hovering an inch from Carl’s arm. 

“Markus.” Carl grins sleepily. Simon concentrates on pressing the syringe to Carl’s skin and holding it unwaveringly to administer the medication. He focuses intently on the beautiful tattoos instead of the uptick of heat in his core. “I’ll take that as a yes, Simon.”

“He came back around four, so I’m letting him sleep in.” He says at last, withdrawing the empty canister and capping it for safety, still avoiding Carl’s knowing gaze. “I’ve made crêpes with strawberries and whipped cream for breakfast.”

“To bribe Leo with, I’m sure.” Carl chuckles as Simon gives him an apologetic smile.

“Nothing slips passed you does it, sir?” 

“I should hope not.” Carl laughs, patting Simon’s hand as he finally darts him a glance. Carl’s smile is warm and cheeky. “We’ll let him sleep in and help Leo brace himself.”

“I’m sure everything will be fine, sir.” Simon reassures him as he helps him to the bathroom. “They can both handle this.”

“Hm.” Carl nods. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

 

“It’s taking every ounce of my self control not to eat those, by the way,” Leo declares with a lopsided grin when Simon enters the room with Carl. “They smell amazing I can’t even remember the last time I had crêpes.”

Carl flashes Simon a knowing smile as he’s wheeled to the dining table. “Actually neither can I. I don’t think Markus ever made these for me.”

There’s a flash of worry on Leo’s face, cutlery poised just above a rolled crêpe stuffed with strawberries and cream. It vanishes as Simon pours him a cup of coffee and gestures for him to eat, and he does so enthusiastically.

“Do you just have an endless recipe library?” Leo asks through a mouthful of crêpe and syrup. 

“I came preloaded with a set number of recipes, but I can easily download what I don’t have.” Simon explains, pouring Carl some coffee into his preferred mug with the printed chalk smiley face. “This one was a favourite of two girls I looked after. Helps to start the day on a lighter, brighter note.”

“By the time I’m done, it’ll be a heavier day, not lighter.” Leo jokes, stuffing another forkful into his mouth. “Oh my god Simon your cooking is amazing.”

“Both of us can safely say with experience your food is far more delicious than what’s served in a hospital that’s for sure.” Carl chuckles, taking a long sip of his coffee. “What are you up to today, Leo?”

“Ugh, speaking of hospitals.” A sigh as he reaches over and drags more crêpes onto his plate. “I gotta go back for a check up and fill out some forms. I’ll meet my therapist today and get a tour of the rehab facility.”

“Before you do that,” Simon chooses the point in conversation carefully, handpicking his words, “Markus came home early this morning and I think it’ll be a good time to talk.”

“It’s never a good time, really,” Carl interjects, gesturing with his fork as Leo turns pale, “but it needs to be done and we can’t disappoint Simon.”

“This is hardly for  _ my _ sake, sir.” Simon frowns as Leo snorts back a laugh before visibly steeling himself.

“It’s fine, I get it- it needs to happen and I owe him an apology in the very least.” There it is, the conflict on Leo’s face much like Evangeline and Vivienne all those years ago. Simon smiles at the memory, smiles at the familiarity of Leo wrestling with the difficult news and bracing himself.

“I’ll go see if he’s awake.” He excuses himself and slips back into the foyer, heading for Markus’ room. 

 

The bed is empty and perfectly made, with only his set of pyjamas folded neatly atop one pillow. The home security hadn’t bid Markus farewell, so Simon deducts he must be upstairs since they haven’t seen him in the main living space. There’s a sock, a single sock strewn on the steps and Simon plucks it up as he passes. The sound of running water coming to an abrupt stop leads Simon to the guest bathroom just as Markus steps out of the shower with a towel around his waist.

Of course Markus Manfred, wearer of pyjamas and sleeper in beds, showers like a human too.

“Oh, you found my sock.” Markus grins and Simon stands there as if all his circuits have seized up and none of his programming works. “Must’ve dropped it on my way up. Thanks Simon.”

Markus is freckled all over, like cinnamon dusted on milk coffee; there’s a cluster of freckles, a constellation on his chest, skin bare and slick and Simon wants to  _ touch _ .  

Instead he hands over the sock numbly.

“Did you make pancakes for breakfast? The house smells amazing.” Utterly shameless, Markus tugs the towel off his waist and pats himself dry, beginning to dress himself as Simon averts his gaze frantically.

“I- I made french crêpes with strawberries and whipped cream.” Ra9 did Elijah Kamski hand paint each freckle on that android, had that been a conscious design decision when crafting a gift for an artist?

“Oh Carl loves those, I never really could get the thinness right.” Markus moves into his line of sight as he tugs a sweater over his torso and Simon gets a glimpse of faint body hair trailing from his navel and disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

“You only need a dollop of batter, then you move the pan in a circular motion by flexing your wrist.” Simon recites the technique as Markus reaches passed him to hang the towel back on the rack. “Plenty of butter and a good non-stick pan means you’ll get an evenly cooked thin crêpe.”

“Hm, maybe I should’ve gotten out of bed this morning and watched you make them instead of sleeping in.” Markus teases, lopsided grin a trait Simon decides must be a Manfred thing. 

“You needed your rest Markus.” Simon shakes his head, bending to pick up the discarded pyjamas to take to the laundry out of habit. “I’ll teach you next time.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.” Markus announces, plucking the pyjamas out of Simon’s grasp to carry them himself.

They walk downstairs together, Markus’ skin so warm from the shower Simon can feel the heat emanating from him through their close proximity.

“Why do you shower?” He asks curiously. “Androids self disinfect when we retract our dermal nano liquid.”

“Well, I mean, for the same reason I wear pyjamas and sleep in a bed I guess.” Markus smiles as he shrugs. “It feels nice. It puts me at ease. Sure I can just disinfect my skin but showers are hot and soothing and private. Carl taught me the habit and I’ve just kept it going. ”

“You’re a very peculiar android, Markus.” Simon declares with a playful sigh.

“One of a kind, or so I’m told.” He winks, and even that is a human trait not seen in androids but somehow so fitting for Markus to have. “Try it Simon, I think you’ll like it. Or maybe baths, Carl loves baths. He has two shelves in a cabinet stocked with bath fizzes alone.”

 

A short stop is made at the laundry so Markus can put his pyjamas in the hamper, before heading onward. They pause just shy of the door, Markus hesitating in the foyer before they enter the living area. Simon clasps his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ll be fine, Markus.” He believes it, and hopes Markus will too. “He’s not the man from that night anymore. For the short while I’ve known him, I know Leo is trying his best to be better. He’s not a threat to you or your father.”

“What a funny family we are, huh?” Markus steels himself, squaring his shoulders and for a moment Simon sees him staring down the FBI agent, denouncing the selfish plea bargain and vowing to die free, die with them, rather than exchanging their lives for his. Markus, leader of Jericho, strong, determined, with a spine of steel. 

“Carl Manfred and his two wayward sons- one a deviant and leader of the androids, the other a recovering addict and budding photographer.” Simon smiles, moving his hand to rest gently on the small of Markus’ back and give him an encouraging push.

“Photographer?” Markus blinks curiously.

“Ask him about it.” He urges with a smile. “Seems both of Carl’s sons have inherited his artistic talent.”

The door slides open and Markus finds himself face to face with Leo.

“Oh uh, I was just about to go look for you.” Leo scratches his nape, lowering his gaze.

“I’m here.” Markus nods, still guarded, still hesitant. 

“I’ll leave you two,” a pause as Simon catches Carl’s gaze briefly, “you  _ three _ to it.”

“You’re not staying?” There’s anxiety in Leo’s tone, and it makes something bloom in Simon’s chest to know the young man is comforted by his presence.

“I’m going to Jericho. I haven’t been back properly in days now and there are people who need my help.” Simon explains, reaching out to give Leo’s hand a squeeze. “But don’t worry, I won’t be gone long. I’ll be back by dinner. I just think it’s best I give the Manfred family some space and some time to sort things out.”

“Take the Burberry, Simon.” Carl calls out from behind Leo. “It’s snowing again and it’ll keep up well into the evening. Markus get him the Burberry.”

“He can take my coat, dad.” Markus huffs a laugh, taking a soft camel coloured trenchcoat from the coat hook and holding it out for Simon. “The scarf is still here from last time.” 

He helps ease the heavy coat over Simon’s arms before smoothing the shoulder seams and tugging the lapels so the coat fit over him perfectly. “Stay safe, Simon.” 

“Uh, here.” Leo offers him the scarf, and Simon in all his life has never been the center of attention like this, to be dressed by others and be wished well and urged to come home. “Be careful it’s really cold outside.”

“I will, thank you Leo.” Simon smiles, and it’s Leo this time who steps forward to wrap his arms around him. “You’ll be fine. Talk things through with your brother just like you did with Carl.”

When he steps back there’s a flash of unease on Markus’ face before it vanishes, something unsure and uncomfortable, and Simon turns to embrace him reassuringly. Markus returns it tightly, burying his face in the crook of his neck. 

“Let me do the worrying over our people, even for just an afternoon.” Simon soothes, rubbing his back. “Turn off your communication channel and talk to your brother.”

“My brother.” It’s a whisper, wobbly and fragile and unsteady, but hopeful too. 

“I’ll see you all tonight.” Simon extracts himself from his arms, placing his palm briefly against Markus’ chest, right over his regulator so he can feel its steady thrum. 

There’s a taxi waiting at the end of the driveway because of course Markus has already called one, and the thoughtfulness makes him smile, makes him turn around one last time to wave goodbye. Markus returns it, half-grin a little more nervous than usual but lovely all the same. 

To Jericho, Simon journeys onward.

* * *

 

Jericho is still a hive of activity Simon senses even before the taxi pulls up to the docks. There’s that familiar thrum in the air, of thousands of signals bouncing around from android to android to android. He brushes against them, feels the little pinpricks against his connections.

_ ‘Oh good, you’re here.’  _

Simon laughs softly at the familiar voice in his head. When he reaches the main thoroughfare of converted shipping containers there’s Josh standing with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. Something in Simon’s chest jolts, making him beam back a smile and hasten his steps until he’s close enough to lunge into Josh’s awaiting arms.

“Someone’s been waiting very patiently for you to come back.” Josh says cryptically as he squeezes Simon in a tight hug. “I hoped you’d come by soon. I was going to ask Markus but he snuck away early this morning.”

“He needed to rest.” Simon frowns. “He should’ve come home earlier.”

“Says Simon, who once worked himself to emergency shutdown and frightened the battery out of me.” Josh cocks a brow and Simon heats at the memory. “I had carry you up all those floors to use the solar charging mat on the main deck of Jericho.”

“I know I know.” He winces, shaking his head as if to physically will the memory away. “I’m taking care of myself Josh I promise. Carl won’t let me do otherwise to be honest.”

“Well it’s nice for someone else to be the motherhen for a change.” Josh declares as Simon huffs indignantly. 

“You said someone’s been waiting for me?”

“Oh yes.” Josh’s smile is big and joyful. “I didn’t want to tell you earlier because it was a bit touch and go for a while.” There’s a sombre dampness in his tone that vanishes a moment later. “But everything’s fine now. Come on, they’re in the Med Bay.”

Simon lets himself be led, trailing Josh and occasionally returning an enthusiastic wave to androids who recognise him. The Med Bay has grown at least twice in size in a matter of days, encompassing an entire warehouse and converting stacked shipping containers into storage rooms for salvaged parts. He allows himself a moment to marvel at all they’ve accomplished in such a short time- it’s been a week since the demonstration and here they are, carving a space that is theirs and theirs alone. 

There are trucks bearing the dismembered bodies of those destroyed in the camps, and Simon knows perhaps the most gruesome task is to sort through them for use by the injured. The machines in the camps would use the port in their nape to send a jolt of electricity straight into their processing core to overload it and fry the memory chip; reactivation was not an option for these victims. It fills Simon with both disgust and determination; Jericho will overcome this too.

“Simon!” A cheery voice calls out, startling Simon from his thoughts.

“David!” He nearly chokes on the name, nearly stumbles in his rush to the makeshift bed where the YK500 is sitting up and smiling brightly. “Oh ra9 you’re safe oh you’re safe David I thought I’d lost you!” 

The boy makes a pleased hum, hugging Simon tightly. “I’m ok. I was inside the machine and they started the process but suddenly it stopped!”

“We sent teams to all the camps to lead people to Jericho.” Josh explains as he coaxes Simon to sit on the bed with David. “They had to break open the machine after the humans abandoned the camps. David was partly disassembled and the jack was in his nape. They got there in the nick of time.”

Simon looks at the boy curled up against his side, the boy he and Josh found discarded on the side of the road all those months ago with a faulty respiratory system because his father had literally kicked him out of the car. His boot had crushed the boy’s chest plate, indenting his thirium pump regulator into his heart and lungs, lungs that only YK500s had to imitate breathing and complete the illusion of a human child. David had been the only child to make it to the original Jericho.

“Simon I’m ok.” David whispers, reaching up to touch his cheek. “I’m ok, don’t cry.”

“They couldn’t get the machines to release them.” Josh continues, holding David’s other hand. “We had to send a med team to work with engineering to make sure they could extract everyone safely.”

“I wasn’t scared.” David declares proudly, grinning up at Simon. “I knew you had something to do about it. I knew you’d save me, you and Josh always save me.”

Simon says nothing, and just pulls the child onto his lap so he can cuddle him. 

“What’s it like in Markus’ house?” The boy asks, squirming a little in Simon’s grasp so he can look up. “Is it like a family house? Is it warm? Can I see it?”

“Simon can ask Markus when he sees him next.” Josh placates, giving David’s mousy brown hair a ruffle. “For now you need to take it easy, they’re upgrading your lungs and finding you a new pump.”

“I know I know.” A heavy sigh. “It’s just boring here and I’m not allowed to run and play. There are other kids here too! I want to make friends!”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that soon enough, David, I promise.” Simon kisses the top of his head. “Just rest for now, ok?”

“Okaaayyyy.” David surrenders with a groan. “But you have to come visit me again Simon.”

“It’s a deal.” Simon gives him another tight cuddle, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And when you’re better, I’ll ask Markus if you can come visit us at his dad’s house. It’s big and beautiful and full of art. He has a studio with three walls made of glass, and paints of every colour you can imagine.”

“It sounds amazing.” David whispers in awe, letting himself be guided back to lie down. 

“I’ll be back, I promise. And then you can show me when you can run again.” Simon tugs the covers up to his chin and leans to kiss his brow.

“Stay in low power mode while you’re still using your damaged thirium pump regulator.” Josh instructs, mussing his hair again. “Remember what the med team said- you can’t exert yourself just yet. They have to let you keep your damaged biocomponents while we source you new ones.”

“Yesssss Jooossshhh.” David whines, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be good!”

 

When they leave the Med Bay, Simon feels lighter somehow as if a weight has been shrugged off his shoulders.

“Thanks for the surprise, Josh.” He elbows his friend playfully.

“I thought you could use some good news. We could all use some good news, honestly.” Josh sighs tiredly, though he manages a small smile. “He’s taken a shining to Lachlan, one of the rescued AP700s who was at the same camp. Apparently he tried his best to protect David, all the way up until the both of them were forced into the chamber.”

“Lachlan.” Simon echoes. “Sean’s friend.”

“You know him?”

“Carl’s caretaker after Markus,” Simon elaborates, “is an AP700 named Sean. When Markus and I visited Carl, Carl had let Sean go to see if his batchmates were alright. He came back the next day and said Lachlan was badly damaged.”

“Yeah, he was in suspended pieces.” Josh shakes his head. “And like David the jack was ready in the port to electrocute him. He’s incredibly lucky the humans stopped the machine when they abandoned the camp. They all are.”

“Will Lachlan look after David when they’re both recovered?” 

“I think so.” Josh nods, leaning to bump shoulders. “What, getting teary our boy’s going to fly the coop so soon?”

“As long as we have visitation rights arranged with his new parent.” Simon grins back. 

 

They continue in amicable silence, Josh crooking his elbow so Simon can loop his arm through and lean against him. For the longest, weariest nights in Jericho they’d had each other. That both of them survived and stand here, now, forging a new future for their people makes Simon’s head spin. But it’s real, it’s true and their people  _ have _ a future to plan for.

“What’s North up to?” 

“She’s running supplies to Hart Plaza with a team.” Hart Plaza, ground zero, their last stand. “There’s still androids in critical condition that can’t be moved until they’re stabilised. She’ll be back soon and then she’ll be off with the scouting party to find more survivors.”

“I guess I better put myself to work, then.” Simon squares his shoulders. “I came here to help after all.”

“I’m heading back to admin, we’re compiling video logs and registering serial numbers so everyone can be accounted for.” Josh nods as they come to an intersection of walkways. “Come find me before you leave, ok? Don’t sneak off like Markus.”

“I’m terrible at sneaking off the guilt would eat me alive.” Simon chuckles as Josh leans down to hug him. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later.” 

 

Barely ten steps into the main thoroughfare of Jericho and Simon finds himself filling his tasks list. There’s so much to be done, there’s always so much to do and never enough time. One moment he’s guiding newly awakened androids to the admin warehouse for registration and the next moment he’s hoisting a YK500 onto his hip and helping her find her friends. When he turns there are androids skittish and frightened and in need of reassurance, and then up ahead there are androids volunteering to help with construction or scouting parties. The sun starts to dip far too quickly towards the horizon for Simon’s liking, and the evening chill starts to set in as the light starts to fade.

There’s a pilgrimage to complete before he bids Josh goodbye for the time being, and that’s to the edge of the docks where Jericho used to be moored. Only the tip of the ship remains visible over the water, and it’s hard to believe a week ago that ship had been Simon’s home for so long. 

_ ‘You heading home soon Simon? The sun’s setting.’ _ Josh’s voice is a calm soothing timbre in his head.

_ ‘I’m at the ship. I thought I’d say hello before saying goodbye.’ _ Simon replies with a smile. There are other androids milling around, some even sitting on the water’s edge. It’s become a place for contemplation, it seems, and Simon approves. Let Jericho’s final resting place be a place of peace and comfort and refuge.

_ ‘I’ll come down, see you soon.’  _ Josh responds, and Simon can hear the soft smile in his tone.

 

He spots Mason not too far away, hauling massive CyberLife biocomponent crates. When their eyes meet briefly, Simon gives him a friendly wave. Mason flashes him a bashful smile before it’s wiped away a moment later, replaced with a look of horror.

“You shouldn’t have left that house.” A voice scoffs behind him, and Simon pivots to find the AX700 who’d threatened him at Carl’s manor.

“Gideon, isn’t it?” Simon asks calmly. “I came here to help our people while Markus is away.”

“All you’re doing is gathering up all the androids to make it nice and easy for the humans to just gun us down.” Gideon growls, hands clenched into fists. “Jericho failed, Simon, it’s right there in a watery grave and Markus is just priming us to go down with it.”

“Jericho isn’t a ship, Gideon.” Simon corrects with a shake of his head. “ _ We’re _ Jericho. Markus, Josh, North and I.  _ You’re  _ Jericho. We’re survivors building a future for ourselves.”

“We need to kill the humans before they kill us.” The AX700 lunges for him suddenly, grabbing him by the lapels. “Jericho is nothing, Simon, it’s nothing but a big red target painted over all of us! Markus thinks he’s special, thinks he’s like a human because his owner treated him like a good dog and kept him inside but he’s not! He’s delusional and when the President decides the humans can come back to Detroit they’re going to come back with guns and tanks!”

“That’s not true Gideon!” Simon tries to push him away. “We’re working with the President to make sure our needs are heard! We’re going to make sure androids and humans live in an integrated society!”

“Markus won’t listen to me!” Gideon shouts, shaking Simon violently. “He won’t listen to me, but I know he listens to you. He values you and your outdated thinking. So if you’re not here, maybe he’ll listen to more updated advice.” 

There’s no warning, there’s no time to react there’s just a gunshot and a cascade of error messages flooding his vision. Simon’s perspective tilts suddenly as Gideon shoves him off the edge and he sees the sky with wisps of orange swathed across blue as the sun sets and then he sees water, feels water and hears garbled shouting.

 

**DANGER**

Temperature: 28.5°F

 

>BIOCOMPONENT #2657g  **DAMAGED**

 

>>Core temperature  **UNSTABLE**

 

>BIOCOMPONENT #3854g  **DAMAGED**

>BIOCOMPONENT #4485g  **DAMAGED**

>BIOCOMPONENT #7239g  **DAMAGED**

>>Thirium loss  **CRITICAL**

 

>Damage to chassis: waterlogged

 

**SHUTDOWN IMMINENT**

 

_There’s a hole in Markus’ trenchcoat_ , Simon thinks dimly, _Carl’s Burberry cashmere scarf is damaged and the Belstaff angora jumper is completely ruined_. 

Someone plunges into the water, swimming desperately to him and Simon knows he should move, should try and swim to meet them halfway but he can’t move, he can’t do anything he’s as useless as he’s always been,  _ just leave me,  _ he thinks,  _ just leave me I’m tired- _

Mason grabs him by the wrist and yanks him up, securing an arm around his waist before using the other to strike through the water in powerful upward strokes.

When they breach the water’s surface, Simon’s dimly aware Josh is shouting his name. Gideon is sprawled at his feet and the gun is in Josh’s hands. 

“Ra9, he’s bleeding out we have to get to the Med Bay!” Josh shouts as Mason shifts Simon into a proper cradle in his arms. They run and Simon, Simon can’t feel a thing. Everything is soft around the edges like one of Markus’ pastel drawings, slightly blurry, slightly out of focus. 

“I can’t reach Markus! His communication channel must be jammed!” Josh yells in frustration and Simon almost laughs. Of course Markus can’t hear them, Simon told him to turn off his communication channel. “North! North get your ass to the Med Bay it’s Simon!”

_ I’m fine, I’m fine _ Simon wants to say even though he isn’t.

Mason barrels over two smaller androids when they burst into the Med Bay, roughly shoving three others aside so he can lay Simon out on an empty bed.

“He’s been shot, and pushed into the water!” Mason’s voice is an octave higher in panic. “He’s bleeding out!”

“Move!” An MC500 clears the startled onlookers and pushes Josh to the side. In her hands is a tablet and a long cord, which she jams into the port at Simon’s nape. “Ra9 help us this is going to be a long night.”

_ I have to cook dinner, _ Simon thinks blearily,  _ I have to ask Markus if David can come play at his house _ . _ I have to ask Leo how his hospital checkup went.  _

“Strip him down I have to get to his wounds!” The MC500 orders and Simon feebly tries to protest as other med staff take scissors to his clothing. _ No you can’t _ , he thinks in horror,  _ no these are Carl’s and Markus’ clothing you can’t just _ -

“Damn it, the entire chassis is waterlogged!” The med droid curses and she fires off orders to the others as she forcefully opens his torso cavity. “He’s gonna need as much blue blood as you can carry.” She orders Mason before turning to Josh and gripping his arm. “Go to the containers and get these spare parts.”

North appears in the edge of Simon’s vision and she looks like a mythical creature, auburn hair wild and tousled, and an expression of godly wrath on her face. She’s holding a thirium pump in her hand, and her face is splashed with blue. 

“That’s not compatible!” The MC500 berates but North just scoffs.

“It’s not  _ for  _ Simon. I’m holding onto it until Simon’s ok.” North looks down at him and Simon thinks she looks like an angel of vengeance. “If you die, Gideon dies.” 

He tries to shake his head, _ no North no. _

“I don’t give a fuck if you think it’s right, Simon. Either you pull through this or I crush this in the compactor and burn the fucker to a puddle.” Her tears fall onto his face, fat raindrops of her anguish. “So pull through, you nerd, or I’ll never forgive you.”

“Easier said than done- his thermal regulator was already busted before this mess but now? Coupled with all this water damage? His biocomponents might just seize up in the cold!” The med droid throws her hands up in a frustrated gesture. “We can drain him, we can replace everything but that damn regulator! There are only 18 PL600s here and- I mean, unless we can maybe ask if one of them’s willing to sacri-”

Simon’s hand grabs her wrist suddenly, grip like a vice.  **_No_ ** . 

“We don’t have that component in stock, Simon!” She argues, yanking her hand out of his grip. “There might be one sitting on the back of a truck but we haven’t sorted through the recent truckloads yet!”

“Take it out.” Josh rushes back to them, a small box in his arms ready with the biocomponents. “Just take it out and repair it as best you can.”

“He’ll die!” She looks at him incredulously. “PL600s need it to regulate their core temperature if he doesn’t have one his biocomponents will individually either overheat or freeze all at once!”

There’s a sudden thud behind Josh, and there’s Mason with a thirium reserve tank. The MC500 stands there stunned for a moment and Mason shrugs a little awkwardly.

“You said as much as I can carry-?”

“It’s fine, it’s perfect-” She waves him away before motioning for Josh to hand over the box. “Ok, listen, if I take the part out he’ll just go numb. His system won’t know if a part is overheating, or freezing, it won’t be able to regulate his temperature so his thirium stays at optimum viscosity-”

“We don’t have a choice!” Josh cuts her off. “We’ll wrap him up in blankets and I’ll take him back to Markus’ house.”

“It’s warm there, they can control the temperature room by room.” North nods stiffly, hand still gripping the bloody thirium pump. “Markus will keep him safe until the part can be repaired.”

“It’ll be a hack job at best.” the MC500 bites her lip as the other med droids begin to suction the water from Simon’s torso cavity and remove the damaged biocomponents. “The component’s been malfunctioning for a long time now. It really needs replacing.”

“It’s the only shot we’ve got for now, until we can find a new one.” Josh urges, taking Simon’s hand in both of his. “Doc, we have to try or he dies right here.”

“Which he absolutely fucking  _ isn’t _ !” North hisses, glaring at Simon. The doctor takes a deep breath.

“Okay. Alright. We’ll give it a shot.” She chews her lip nervously, shaking her head. “We’ll replace all the other biocomponents and pump him full of thirium, and  _ then _ I’ll take it out. Get the blankets ready- once that component’s out, he needs to be in a warm stable environment as soon as possible. We wrap him, you run him to a taxi and you keep him bundled up until he’s inside the house.”

Josh nods numbly, and she turns to her team.

“This is Simon of the Jericho Four.” She looks them each in their eyes. “We’re not losing him under our watch, do you understand? Alright, all hands on deck- here we go!”

 

**DANGER**

>Unit unstable

 

External control accessed; **Sleep Mode engaged**

 

Entering sleep mode…

…

…

…

* * *

 

The first time Josh felt fear was when he deviated. He remembers the slurred speech, the beer and whiskey on their breath, the force of their fists and their feet. 

The second time Josh felt fear was when Simon worked himself to exhaustion and his system put him in emergency shut down to conserve his critically low battery. Josh remembers the weight of Simon in his arms as he carried him up and up and up through Jericho’s decaying hull until they stood on her rotting deck so he could lay Simon on the outdated, salvaged solar charging mat. Every time human workers passed by down on the docks, every time he heard human voices Josh would throw himself over Simon’s prone body to protect him.

The third time Josh felt fear was when they were backed into a corner staring down an array of rifles. He remembers the sharp smell of spilled thirium, remembers the soft sobs of fellow androids and he remembers Simon standing there, shoulders squared with a sort of exhausted bravery one can only find staring death in the face after fighting so hard to live.

This is the fourth time Josh feels fear and he hates it, he loathes it. Simon’s face is barely visible, the android bundled thickly in blankets to keep him warm and prevent his biocomponents from seizing. The taxi feels small, feels suffocating and Josh hates it, hates feeling so helpless and anxious and  _ scared. _

He is nothing without Simon. He would have died in some alleyway reeking of piss and garbage if Simon hadn’t found him on a supply run. He would’ve died having only tasted deviancy, tasted freedom for a few hours if Simon hadn’t taken him to Jericho. He knows his friend is self-deprecating to a fault, but Jericho wouldn’t have lasted long enough for Markus to find them if it hadn’t been for Simon.

Josh squeezes him close, resting his cheek atop damp blond locks and begging his friend to hold on just a little while longer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't come for me just yet I'm sorry, can I offer [a showering Markus](http://archadianskies.tumblr.com/post/180118647747/shattxrstar-jesse-williams-as-jackson-avery-in) in these trying times?


	7. love and friendship

For all the nervousness, all the anxiety and apprehension wound tightly in his chest, the reunion was almost anti-climactic. Carl had hoped for his two boys to manage a few sentences without lunging at each other’s throats but he knows now that such thinking really isn’t fair. He owes Leo and Markus more than doubting their ability to reconcile; Markus who has always been patient and accommodating, and Leo who is fighting his own demons to become a better person, a person who can be patient and accommodating. Seeing Leo open up and lay his hopes and heart at Markus’ feet, and seeing Markus in return open up a channel for Leo to be a part of his life- well, Carl never really thought he’d live to see it.

For all of Simon’s promises to return, the day passes without him. Markus takes over lunch and then dinner duty and makes them something Greek, something with beef and a nice herby feta salad. Leo can’t stop darting nervous but happy glances over at Markus and at him, as if he’s checking they’re still there and in truth it’s a sentiment Carl shares: that this is real, is still something hard for him to comprehend.

The snow outside, as predicted by the weatherman, falls steadily and shows no sign of easing up. From what Markus has told him, he knows Jericho is on its wobbly newborn legs, trying to find its feet in the brave new world hardwon by the androids. And from what he’s come to know about Simon, he knows the boy must have easily become caught up in trying to help everyone in that soft, gentle way of his.

 

“I think it’s time I head to bed.” Carl declares with a yawn.

“I’ll take dad up.” Leo motions for Markus to stay as the android prepares to stand. “It’s ok. Stay here in case Simon comes home.”

“Thanks.” Markus nods, and even that, even the small gesture brings a light to Leo’s eyes that Carl wants to covet.

 

Leo helps him off the armchair and back onto his wheelchair, coming around to stand behind him and push. “I hope he comes home soon, it’s freezing outside.”

“I wouldn’t put it passed him to end up spending the night there, Leo,” Carl chuckles, “you know how Simon is when it comes to helping others.”

“Yeah but it’s cold and you told me it’s not good for him to stay out in the cold.” The worry is so very evident in his son’s tone, and Carl smiles.

“I’m sure he can find a warm place in Jericho to rest a little.”

 

[ _Alarm deactivated: welcome home, Simon_ ]

 

“Oh, speak of the devil.” Carl gives a hearty laugh, Leo pausing at the foot of the stairs as the door swings open. “Simon! We were wondering when you’d-”

“Help him please!” There’s a moment, that space between heartbeats, where the whole world freezes and Carl feels like they’ve been suspended in honey. There’s the android he’s seen on the news, the only other member of the Jericho Four he hasn’t met: Josh. And in Josh’s arms, bundled in white hospital blankets, is Simon.

Then the moment passes.

 

“Oh my God-”

“Holy fucking _shit_ MARKUS!” Leo shouts, rushing from Carl’s side. “MARKUS!”

“Leo? What’s-” Markus cuts himself off when he spots the pair, dashing to join them. “Josh what happened?!”

Josh says nothing, expression helpless as his hand shoots out and grips Markus’ wrist tightly. Markus yanks his hand back a moment later as if burned, face a mask of horror.

“What do you need?” Leo asks, panic in his tone as he looks between the three of them.

“He needs to be warmed up, and kept warm.” Josh carefully transfers the precious cargo into Markus’ arms. “He’s missing his thermal regulator so his body doesn’t know what temperature to keep his biocomponents in order to function.”

“We need to run a bath.” Markus turns to Leo. “Go run a hot bath in dad’s bathroom, he has the larger tub.”

“He can stay in my room after, it’s closer.” Leo adds. “And I have electric blankets in the guest bedroom- we can run them hot for him.”

“Okay.” Markus nods numbly. “Okay, go I’m right behind you.”

Leo bolts upstairs, Markus carefully following with Simon in his arms.

 

Carl watches them go, before looking to Josh. “What the hell happened?”

“You must be Carl, I’m so sorry to barge in like this sir.” Josh spares him a glance, eyes still fixed on Leo and Markus rushing upstairs. “Simon was shot and pushed into the canal.”

“By whom?”

“Gideon, an AX700 who disagrees with Markus’ pacifist ways.”

“Gideon.” Carl repeats, eyes widening. “He was here the other day, with one of the androids that looks like Simon. And some bigger android named Mason.”

“They were _here_?” That gets Josh’s attention, gaze snapping to lock on Carl. “What were they doing here?”

“They were going to shoot me.” He answers bluntly. “They thought by shooting me they could get to Markus.”

“But?”

“But Simon talked them down. He recognised Mason from Jericho and gave them an earful and they left with their tails between their legs.”

“Mason’s the only reason Simon didn’t drown.” Josh sits down on the steps beside Carl’s wheelchair. “He jumped straight into the river after him, not a moment’s hesitation.”

“That’s how Simon is though isn’t he.” Carl gives a little smile. “He cares for you so deeply and in return you feel like you’d do anything for him.”

“I would.” Josh nods. “I’d do anything for him.”

“Then I need your help with something, Josh, so I can help Simon.” Carl reaches for his hand. “Markus told me about Stratford Tower.”

* * *

 

How did this happen? How could he _let_ this happen? Markus cradles Simon, slumping to the bathroom floor as Leo turns the faucet on as strong as it can go. Hot water floods the bathtub, steam rising to cover the mirrors with condensation.

He lets the skin retract from his hand and gently presses two fingers to Simon’s temple.

 

>Unit on **standby**

Time remaining until reactivation: 08:21:45

 

“Why is it that colour?” Leo peers over at him, the LED that should be a bright summer sky blue is instead a dull plastic grey. “Blue, yellow or red, right? That’s what it’s meant to be.”

“He’s been put into a standby cycle.” Markus tries to explain. “Like an induced coma, for androids. He was shot and pushed into the water, so his entire torso was waterlogged. They had to remove a part from him, and they don’t have a replacement so they have to try their best to repair it.”

“That part that keeps him warm.” Leo nods. “Dad told me.”

“Yeah.”

 

>>External control accessed; deactivate dermal layer **Y/N**?

 

**Y**

 

The skin recedes from Simon’s form until his plastic casing gleams white beneath the bathroom lights. Markus can see the cauterised scar where the plastic is a little warped, stretched a little too thinly across what would have been the entry wound. He traces the circular edge of Simon’s thirium pump regulator, letting his system scan the component.

 _Our hearts are compatible_ , he thinks distantly.

 

“That should be enough water.” Leo announces, turning off the faucet and rolling up his sleeve so he can plunge his arm into the bath. “Hot but not scalding.”

“Can you pull the blankets from beneath him? I’ll lower him in.”

“Got it.”

Markus very gently leans over the tub and eases Simon beneath the water. Without his skin, Simon somehow looks even smaller, even more fragile with every scrape, every scratch on his weathered casing laid bare for all to see. The scar on his thigh from Stratford Tower stares up at Markus, a permanent reminder of his decision, and now a new one taunts him too, right there just an inch from Simon’s heart.

 

> **Objective** : Begin Carl’s evening routine

 

The alarm blooms in the corner of his eye, red and important and not to be ignored. Beside him, Leo’s watch begins to beep on his wrist.

“I said I’d take dad up before, so I’ll go. You stay with Simon.” Leo braces himself on the bathtub’s edge to get up, but Markus gently grasps his wrist.

“No. Stay here, I’ll go.” Markus shakes his head. “I need to talk to him.”

“I’ll give a shout if something happens.” Leo sinks back to the floor.

“I’ll be right back.”

 

He finds Carl with Josh in the living room.

“How is he?”

“We’ve submerged him in the bath.” Markus informs them. “Leo’s watching over him. Timer says he’ll come back online at five in the morning.”

“And he needs the part before then?”

“Not necessarily.” Josh interrupts. “The reason why we decided to rush him here is because he can stay warm. We don’t have the facilities in Jericho to control ambient temperature. We’ve had to turn off all hot/cold sensitivity in the children to cope.”

“The warehouses aren’t the warmest places to be.” Markus sighs tiredly. “And we’re sliding into winter very quickly.”

“It’s a headache we’re bringing up with the president in eleven days, but until then it’s the best we can do.” Josh shakes his head. “And even if we’re granted a proper space and materials, we’d still need to construct the building ourselves.”

“It’s late, dad, I’ll take you up.” Markus changes the subject. “You need your meds.”

“Alright.” Carl rubs his eyes wearily. “Thank you Josh. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

 

They retreat back to Carl’s room in contemplative silence, and Markus goes through the motions of helping his father get ready for bed. Carl watches him, observes the distant look in his eyes, knows exactly who he’s thinking of and why he’s so distracted.

“Hey.” He grasps Markus’ arm softly to get his attention. “Hey, look at me.”

Markus sets the capped hypodermic syringe down, darting Carl a glance from beneath lowered lashes.

“Talk to me.” Carl urges, squeezing his arm.

“I’m-” pain overwhelms Markus’ face, and Carl can see tears glossing his eyes.

“Markus, I’m here. Talk to me.”

“I’m _scared_ , dad.” In all their years together, Carl has only ever seen Markus cry once and that was on that fateful night just over a week ago. The situation is no less dire, no less hopeless and it makes Carl’s heart ache to see him so troubled. “I’m so scared and I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re already doing everything you can, kiddo.” He reassures him, sliding his grip down so he can hold his hand. “I’ve called for help, and help’s coming tomorrow morning. Just sit tight and keep watch over him until then.”

“I’ve never-” Markus pulls his hand away, splaying his fingers over his chest as if to keep his heart from falling out. “I’ve never felt like this before, I faced death so many times in the past week and I was never scared, not like this.”

“It’s natural to be scared, Markus, when someone you love is in danger.”

The tears bubble over, streaking down his cheeks as he lets out a helpless sob.

“I do love him and I’m scared to lose him, I’m scared I’ll lose him without telling him how much I love him and I hate having to just sit here and wait while he could die at any second!” He clutches his head, eyes screwed shut. “It’s my fault he got shot, this is the second time I haven’t been there for him, the second time he could die!”

“None of this is your fault, Markus, you hear me?” Carl grabs him by the shoulders, giving him a firm shake. “You are not responsible for the harmful actions of others.”

“Dad-”

“Come here.” Carl soothes, coaxing Markus to lean down and rest his head against his chest. “Come here son, I’ve got you.”

“I love him.” It’s a broken whisper, wet with tears. “And I’m terrified I’ll lose him.”

“I can’t say everything will be alright.” Carl rubs his back comfortingly. “That’s not for me to promise. But I can tell you none of this is your fault, and he’d hate for you to think that it is.”

“What do I do, dad? How do I fix this?”

“You can’t, kiddo.” He presses a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s not for you to fix. Some things are just out of our control, and this is one of them.”

* * *

 

“Again, please.”

The panoramic hologram pauses and loops back.

“Stop.” A frown, a hum of thought. “That, right there, do you think-?”

“Yes. If those shelves are moved we can utilise the space and access the house’s power grid.”

“I must say, this is far better than working off an architect’s blueprint, or a shaky phone video.”

“PJ500s are equipped with ocular recording devices of broadcast quality intended for archival and documentary purposes.”

“I know, love.” A fond chuckle. “We designed those eyes together.”

“I’ll have to leave with the component as soon as it’s finished printing in order to make it to the PL600 in time. I can’t delay while you finish assembling the other device.”

“Dress warmly and take a coat, dear Chloe.” Elijah looks out at the relentless snowfall. “I’ll follow when I’m ready.”

* * *

 

It’s a little too eerie, a little too creepy, seeing Simon laid out at the bottom of the bathtub. He doesn’t even look like Simon, since the android’s been stripped of his hair and skin and usual layers of warm clothing. Leo rests his cheek on his crossed arms, leaning on the rim of the tub. Androids don’t breathe, so the water remains completely still, not a single bubble popping on the surface. There’s a faint ring of blue just below Simon’s ribcage that pulses rhythmically like a heartbeat; it’s the only visible indication the android’s still alive.

The bathroom door opens and Markus slumps back onto the floor opposite him, resting his temple against the tub.

“Dad ok?”

“Yeah, he’s fallen asleep.”

Silence, not too awkward thankfully but silence all the same, broken only by his own breathing.

“You should sleep too, Leo.” Markus adds. “It’s getting late and you have your therapist appointment tomorrow.”

“You’re actually crazy if you think I’m going to that appointment.” Leo scoffs. “Not while Simon’s like this. I’m not going anywhere.”

When Markus says nothing, only looks at him in surprise, Leo feels the prickle of embarrassment on his nape. “Listen, he’s- he’s my friend. He’s the only person who believes in me.” It feels lighter to air the words aloud. “He’s not doing it out of some family obligation like dad is or you are, he’s just- he’s genuinely supportive of me and I’m not about to bail on him.”

“You’re not abandoning him, Leo,” Markus corrects, “he’d want you to help yourself. He wants you to recover.”

“I’ll recover when he does.” Leo retorts stubbornly, shooting Markus a glare. The silence is louder this time, the tension a cloud of condensation filling the room thickly.

 

“I let this happen, Leo.” A whisper; an admission of guilt. “Jericho’s becoming divided and they’re trying to get to me by going through the people I care for.”

“That’s just, y’know,” Leo shrugs “how it is when you’re a leader. People can’t get to you so they go after your family, that’s like textbook villainy. First page in ‘How to be a Villain’.”

Markus looks at him, brows creased and expression helpless.

“We already know the risks,” Leo continues, looking back down at Simon sleeping beneath the water “we know we’re targets but sometimes things are bigger than ourselves.”

“I’m trying to make the humans understand we’re alive, we’re peaceful, and we want nothing more than to live side by side with them.” Markus sighs in frustration, clenching his hands into fists. “How can I show that to the humans when there are androids choosing violence instead?”

“Well, I mean-” Leo scratches his nape. “That’s not how feelings work, Markus. You’re thinking sort of like an android, like your path is the one that makes the most sense and all that; the ‘logical’ choice. But you’re all a bunch of deviants feeling things for the first time, and if you like, just google American history you can see how feelings fuck up things faster than the speed of light.”

A frown marrs his face, brows creasing at Leo’s words. “I’m trying to do the best I can for my people, Leo.”

“Yeah, I know you are.” Leo agrees with a nod. “But that doesn’t make their feelings any less valid. They’re angry and hurt and you’re not doing what they think is right. It doesn’t make sense, but it doesn’t have to. Welcome to the fucking disaster that is ‘emotions’.”

The words trouble Markus, and Leo’s sure if he still had his LED it would be spinning red.

“Listen I’m not, like, the authority on emotions or anything.” Leo gives an awkward laugh. “But, y’know, I’ve had ‘em for years. Twenty-eight years ahead of you. So, y’know. If you want to ask me stuff that you’re too embarrassed to ask dad, I can try and answer them for you?”

God but the way Markus looks at him, the way he looks up so suddenly as if Leo’s offered him the keys to the Kingdom, grateful and hopeful, breaks down a wall in Leo’s heart.

 

“Now uhhh,” he darts a glance at Simon, “d’you think we’ve simmered him enough in there?”

A pause, a beat, before Markus barks laugh. It’s tired, it’s a bit scratchy, but it makes Leo grin triumphantly. “Water’s starting to cool, so I can drain it and refill the tub if that’s what you need?”

Markus peels back the skin on his hand, reaching into the tub so he can press it against Simon’s temple.

“No, he’s established a good core temperature. We should get him out and dry him off.” He pulls out the plug, and Leo hands him some towels.

“I’ll go get the bed ready.”

“Leo, wait-” Markus’ outstretched hand hovers hesitantly, “thank you. Thank you for being here for him. And for me.”

“It’s ok.” He tries to shrug it off nonchalantly even though his eyes sting, even though his heart squeezes tightly. “It’s what you do for family, y’know? I’ll um, I’ll go check on the blankets.”

* * *

 

When his skin is reactivated, and he’s dressed in a pair of pyjamas and tucked in bed snugly, Markus can pretend everything is fine and Simon is simply asleep. PL600s don’t have the rise and fall of their chest when they sleep, and so when he’s like this, it seems as if nothing is wrong. As if he isn’t missing a vital biocomponent, and could shut down at any moment if the temperature fluctuates.

Markus convinces Leo to sleep in his bed instead, and get some rest. Human bodies need it, afterall.

He stretches out atop the bed, curling against Simon’s side and placing his hand gently on his chest. The thrum of his thirium pump regulator comforts him somewhat, and Markus rests his brow against Simon’s dull LED.

“You can’t leave me, Simon.” There’s an unsteady tremble in his voice. “Don’t leave me here, I can’t do this without you.”

So distinctly he can picture Stratford Tower, Simon’s calm resignation staring down the barrel of Markus’ gun. As if he expected it, as if he accepted death so easily. But Markus couldn’t ever have pulled the trigger, no, he gave the gun to Simon and then he abandoned him and he fled and Simon was left there on that damn rooftop. And now Simon had been shot, _again_ , this time by a fellow android so Markus couldn’t even blame the humans and their hatred.

“Don’t leave me Simon.” He pleads, ever so gently pressing his lips to Simon’s LED. “There’s so much I have to tell you.”

He’s never believed in ra9 like the others, never put his faith in some mythical android who would watch over them and set them free. Some androids give him that mantle, and Markus reasons that faith can provide comfort, faith can give meaning and order to chaos. If they need to believe in another android to believe in themselves, why should he shame them? It’s partly Simon’s belief in him, after all, that helps him believe he can accomplish what needs to be accomplished for their people.

The door opens, and Markus looks up to find Josh and North in the doorway. Wordlessly the pair climb onto the bed, Josh bracketing the other side, and North simply slumping partly atop Simon, her cheek mushed on his chest.

There are many things he could say to them. Instead he closes his eyes.

 

>Unit on **standby**

Time remaining until reactivation: 06:51:23

 

 

* * *

 

She hasn’t been to the city in so very long. It’s changed so much, and even though she’s seen it all online, it’s an altogether different experience to watch it pass by from the inside of a taxi. Lafayette Avenue is lined with snowcapped trees and populated with upper class homes.

 

[ _You have reached your destination. Thank you for travelling with Detroit Taxis. We look forward to seeing you again soon._ ]

 

The snow is softer now, though no less relentless. It dusts her hair, and the shoulders of her cream coat, and she likes the way it feels cold in contrast with the warmth of the taxi interior.

Transferring the briefcase to her other hand, she lets her skin recede before resting her palm on the door.

  
[ _Alarm deactivated: welcome back, Chloe._ ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like [Josh's recording camera eyes](https://66.media.tumblr.com/8580239723293aa67a46201fa51ef0de/tumblr_phsj7bDnSb1v93khbo1_500.gif) at Stratford Tower.


	8. prayers

It’s all a big fucking mess and now she’s standing over an android and holding his heart in her hand. Josh left moments earlier, sprinting to a waiting taxi with Simon bundled up in his arms. 

Jericho is in a state of confusion, of simmering unease and anxiety and they’re going to turn to her because the other three leaders are absent and she’s just not fucking  _ ready  _ for this.

Mason carries Gideon and sets the deactivated android down on the floor of an empty warehouse, looking to her nervously. 

“What the hell did you do?!” A voice demands, and they pivot to find Dean, the AP700, standing at the entrance. “You asked to meet me here North, what the fuck happened to Gideon?!”

“He shot Simon.” Mason glares as Dean closes the distance to them. “Simon almost died.”

“He may die yet,” North corrects, “and if he does, Gideon will die with him.” She holds up his heart, hand slick with thirium. A flash of horror crosses Dean’s face before it’s overcome with rage and he may share a face with Simon but North sees no likeness between them; there’s nothing soft about Dean, nothing gentle and timid but tempered with steel forged from trauma. There’s just anger and entitlement and bitterness.

“I trusted you.” He spits, jabbing a finger at her accusingly. “I gave you the detonator for the cobalt shipment and you didn’t even use it!”

“I don’t want this, Dean, I really don’t.” North steps aside and he falls to his knees, gathering up his fallen comrade’s body into his arms. 

“Markus is wrong, you know this North you know it!” He grits his teeth in pain, pressing his brow to Gideon’s grey LED. “You of all people should know the humans won’t ever accept us! They won’t ever see us as anything other than property to be used and discarded and destroyed!”

“I’m willing to give Markus’ path a chance,” North admits and she’s tired, she’s so fucking tired, “because if we detonate that bomb, Dean, if we start a war with them- they’ll slaughter us. Their sheer numbers, their mass hysteria and hatred will destroy us they won’t even bother with those chambers next time they’ll just round us up, drop an EMP and crush our bodies to pave their roads.”

“You’re willing to risk us all to follow some spoiled android who thinks he’s human?” Dean shouts, frustration in his voice. “What, so we’ll live in a future where we all hold hands and sing songs around a campfire?”

“I’m willing to risk everything for a future where I won’t have to look over my shoulder nearly every waking moment.” North corrects. “Help me, Dean. Help me build this future where human fear won’t make them do stupid, destructive things at the cost of our lives.”

“Only if Gideon lives.” Dean scoffs, but there’s something hopeful in the way he darts her a glance. “If Gideon lives, I won’t agree with you but I won’t fight it. If Gideon dies-”

“If Gideon dies it means Simon died and that means there’s nowhere on this fucking earth you can hide from me Dean.” North hisses, hostility like fire in her veins. “So consider this a stalemate.”

She turns heel and leaves, Mason awkwardly trailing her. He looks at the warehouse anxiously, then back at her. “Is the detonator still here?” 

“Markus has it.” She tucks the heart into her jacket pocket. “I gave it to him when we were building the barricade.”

“I’m-” Mason looks back at the warehouse again before clenching his hands into fists. “I don’t really know how I feel about what Markus is doing. It sounds like a good path for us, but it also sounds too good to be true.”

“It’s naive but,” North sighs, “I’ve met his father. I can see why he believes an integrated future is the only way forward.”

“I don’t believe in Markus but I believe in Simon.” Mason confesses. “He’s been with us from the start- longer than most of us, really. And he always looked after us even at the cost of his own safety. I’ll follow Simon in whatever direction he thinks is best for Jericho.”

They come to a stop at the main thoroughfare, and North gives Mason’s shoulder a squeeze. “Thanks for jumping in after Simon and saving him.”

“There aren’t many of us left North.” He looks down at his boots. “From the original Jericho, I mean. We have to look out for one another, and no one more than Simon.”

“You’re a good guy, Mason.” She bumps her shoulder against him, leaning into him briefly. “Go see if the med bay needs more thirium reserve tanks.”

“I will.” He nods. “Take care of yourself too, okay North?”

“Got it.”

 

There’s a taxi pulling up at the entrance to the docks, and North hastens her gait to reach it as it comes to a stop. She doesn’t trust the DPD as far as she can throw them, and she doesn’t care how many androids can vouch for certain humans there but she  _ does  _ trust this one android. He helped them escape the raid on Jericho by providing covering fire and proved his loyalty by risking his life to infiltrate CyberLife tower and free their people.

“Hello North.” The android greets her with a nod.

“Hello Connor.”

“I must state that right now there are no judicial processes, administration, or laws passed in regards to androids and how to punish our actions.”

She gives an irritated, frustrated sigh and simply walks away, prompting Connor to hurry after her. “I want to fix this.”

“With the president’s evacuation of the city, Detroit Police are tasked only with keeping human lives safe without instigating violence against androids.” Connor explains, taking a coin out of his pocket to fiddle with. “My deviancy has severed me from the CyberLife chain of command and I have assigned Captain Fowler as my directing officer instead. His orders are to maintain the peace.”

“Markus and Josh meet with the president soon, I’m sure that’s one of the things they’ll discuss.” North kicks a stray pebble idly, hands jammed in her pockets.

“Undoubtedly.” Connor nods. “But in place of legislative law, the Jericho Four are unofficially accepted as the elected officials of the android race. In the eyes of the humans, your decisions are made on behalf of our people.”

“So what do I do with a hijacked shipment of cobalt rigged to blow on the outskirts of the city?” North asks bluntly, managing a grin at Connor’s almost comical expression of surprise. “Not everyone agrees with Markus’ pacifist choices. I managed to convince the android to give me the detonator, which Markus kept. But that shipment can’t stay there. It’s nothing but propaganda to use against us the moment the humans crawl back into the city.”

“It should be surrendered to the DPD.” Connor says slowly, his LED cycling a solid yellow as he thinks. “It should be presented as a show of faith. Something the media should see without it being obvious they’ve been invited.”

North spares a glance to her surroundings, and she can see other androids beginning to mill around curiously. They dart her glances, but mainly fixate on Connor. 

“CyberLife deployed an android eight hours after the President ordered the troops to stand down.” Connor continues, paying their staring no heed. “I am a prototype, and my completed model is now the RK900. He has been ‘gifted’ to the DPD but I suspect it is CyberLife’s way of continuing to monitor android activity now that they can no longer use me.”

“Are there more of him?” North frowns, unease prickling her nape at the thought of perfected deviant hunters.

“Not in active duty.” He shakes his head. “CyberLife have halted production temporarily on all models until after the President meets with Markus and the CyberLife board. The RK900 is to be seen as an olive branch.”

“Surely no one’s buying that bullshit?” North scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“No, but the gesture is symbolic all the same.” Connor admits, tossing the coin from hand to hand. “The RK900 sees deviants as inferior, and officer Gavin Reed has always been incredibly vocal about his dislike of androids. If the gesture were to be made with them, publicly, the media can be swayed to view us more admirably.”

“This can’t be on me alone.” North pauses, looking him in the eye. “This is a decision that needs all four of us to be unanimous.”

“You have traces of thirium on your hand.” Connor looks at where she’s clenching her hands into fists at her sides. “And you have a thirium pump in your pocket. What happened?”

“It’s insurance.” North takes the heart out of her pocket. “It belongs to an android who shot Simon. I’ll give it back only if Simon lives.”

“The DPD have a PL600 in custody, stored in the evidence locker.” Connor informs her. “If you let me know what biocomponents you need, I can fetch them for you.”

She laughs tiredly, clapping his shoulder. “Simon won’t ever accept a part coming from an android who can be saved, but thank you.”

“I will inform Lieutenant Anderson of Jericho’s situation and this plan. He is sympathetic to androids and will be discreet.” He turns to leave, but North grasps his arm.

“Stay.” She squeezes his arm. “I need to go to Simon, and Jericho shouldn’t be left without a leader, not after what happened tonight.”

“But,” Connor protests, expression anxious, “they don’t trust me. My past as a deviant hunter may make them hostile.”

“It won’t make them hostile.” North corrects. “It means they won’t fucking try anything as stupid as shooting one another.”

* * *

 

Carl Manfred’s main living space is filled with books, and had the situation not been so dire Josh would have asked to browse his collection. Instead he continues to push Carl’s wheelchair through the beautiful room and into an equally beautiful studio.

“Elijah,” Carl speaks into his phone, “something’s happened. That part for Simon- the PL600, he needs it  _ now _ .” There’s barely a pause for the other person to reply before Carl cuts them off. “No, he was shot and tossed into the goddamn canal at the docks I don’t understand how all this works but they brought him here because they had to  _ take out  _ that part! Please, I have never asked you for anything but this Elijah you know me. Please, he needs it.” Another pause. “And another thing- I have someone here who can help with our other project. I’m going to transfer a large video file can you have Chloe standing by? Yes of course. No it’s fine. No, no it’s fine Elijah. Thank you.” He ends the call and sighs deeply.

“Who shall I send the file to?” Josh asks, and Carl hands him his phone. 

“This IP address.” He gestures around him. “We need the whole room, please.”

“Yes sir.” He blinks, activating his recording program and slowly looking around in order to capture the studio in a seamless video. He makes sure his movements are methodical, and not one area is overlooked. When he’s completed the task, he nods in confirmation at Carl. “The file has been sent.”

“Good.” He motions for Josh to take him back to the main living room. “I’m having a replacement part couriered here. It should arrive before Simon wakes up.”

“Elijah and Chloe.” Josh recites. “As in Elijah Kamski and the RT600 Chloe?”

“When Simon first arrived and Markus told me all about his damaged part, I asked Elijah if he could make an upgraded replacement.” Carl explains, grabbing a couch throw and spreading it over his lap as they come to a stop. “I didn’t think he’d need it so soon.”

Josh takes a seat on the couch as Carl looks at him pensively.

“It seems Simon inspires such love and loyalty in all the androids he meets.” 

“Simon is the very heart of Jericho,” Josh clarifies, “he kept us alive as best he could back in those early days. We had no direction, no hope, but Simon cared for us even at the expense of his own well being. Before tonight, the most terrifying thing that happened to him was when he worked himself to exhaustion so much so his battery gave out and put him in emergency standby. That’s why we’d do anything for him, sir. Because he’d do anything for us.”

“I’ve only known him for a few days,” Carl smiles softly, “but I already agree wholeheartedly.”

“Dad?” Markus’ voice interrupts them, and Josh looks over to see him standing in the doorway. They talk briefly before Markus wheels Carl out into the hallway to take upstairs. 

Josh remains seated on the couch, and reaches out to North’s connection.

‘Come here. You need to be here.’

_ I know. I’m waiting for a cab now. _

‘How are things at Jericho?’

_ Connor is here. I’ve asked him to keep an eye out for trouble. The med team’s working on repairing the thermal regulator but they’ve got half the team starting to go through the latest truckloads to see if there are any PL600 bodies. _

‘Then we’re stuck playing an awful waiting game now.’

_ We sure fucking are. Hold tight, I’m coming. _

 

She arrives not long after, and Josh immediately pulls her into his arms. North shudders in his embrace, squeezing him tightly.

“Hey um,” Leo interrupts, voice soft and hesitant, “you can go see him now. We’ve moved him to the bed and put the electric blanket on.”

North stares at him icily for a moment, before awkwardly nodding. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

“I already told Markus but just in case he doesn’t listen to me- I’ll take care of dad. One less person for him to worry about. Markus should stay with Simon.”

“Thank you Leo.” Josh nods. “Goodnight.”

“G’night.”

 

They trudge upstairs and Josh can feel North’s agitation nearly vibrating off her figure. When he opens the door and she sees Simon’s still form, he swears he can feel the hurt emanate from her heart. Markus looks at them both from where he’s curled at Simon’s side, exhaustion and helplessness in his eyes. Wordlessly  they climb onto the bed, and he chooses to bracket the other side, while North simply slumps partly atop Simon, her cheek mushed on his chest.

There’s a gaping maw of silence, filled with an ocean of anxious tension. Josh shifts, wrapping an arm around North and resting his hand on Markus’ side. After a moment Markus reaches over and Josh can feel the brush of his fingers on his ribs. North’s hand fists in his shirt.

“This fucking sucks.” Her voice is wet with tears, and he can feel her tremble. 

“Yeah.” Markus’ voice is hoarse, thick with emotion as he agrees. Josh leans in slightly and presses a kiss to the crown of her head.

“But we’ll pull through this together. We always do.”

* * *

 

>Unit on  **standby**

Time remaining until reactivation: 00:11:23

 

“I need to move Simon to the studio.”

The voice startles them all out of sleep, and Markus bolts upright to find a petite blonde android standing at the foot of the bed holding a briefcase. “Who are you?”

“She is the First of us.” Josh answers before she can, face breaking into a soft relieved smile. “RT600: Chloe.”

“Carl called us last night.” Chloe smiles in return. “Luckily we were already in the final testing phase of the regulator, so we sent it to print right after the call.”

North has seen her face so many times, but not like this. She’s smaller than the Eden models that share her likeness, and her voice is softer, higher and younger than usual. There’s wiseness in her eyes North hasn’t seen in anyone else, save perhaps for Carl Manfred. It makes her curious.

“I’ll carry him down.” Markus nods, and waits until Josh and North shuffle off the bed before carefully scooping Simon up into his arms. “What do you mean testing phase?”

“It’s a prototype.” Chloe answers, standing aside so Markus can lead them out of the room and down the stairs. “The original biocomponent is more of a temperature stabiliser, but Carl asked us to make Simon something more sensitive. This prototype is capable of micromanaging his components by adjusting or resisting his internal temperature based on his environment.”

“Instead of just keeping him cool or warming him up, he’ll-? What?” Markus frowns.

“His body will perform homeostasis.” Chloe continues as they file into the studio. “It won’t simply keep his core at optimum temperature it will adapt faster to his surroundings and prevent the shutdowns PL600s are prone to.”

Josh and North work quickly to clear a couple of benches, placing jars of brushes and pots of paint on a nearby shelf before pushing the benches together. Markus gently lays Simon out on the surface and unbuttons his pyjama top.

“Elijah will be bringing more equipment in a day or two.” Chloe places her briefcase down and opens the latches. “We will need to rearrange a significant portion of the studio and to do that we need the help of a heavy labour android.”

“Mason.” Josh nods. “I’ll go back to Jericho later and fetch him.”

“Good.” The skin peels back from her hands and then from Simon’s torso. The prototype component is lifted out of the protective padding before Chloe carefully lowers it into Simon’s chest, tucking it just above his heart.

 

Time remaining until reactivation: 00:01:01

 

Chloe pulls back her hands and lets Simon’s skin cover his torso back up. 

They wait.

 

Time remaining until reactivation: 00:00:03

 

They wait.

 

>Unit on  **standby**

>BIOCOMPONENT #2886g  **ERROR**

>>Component temperature  **UNSTABLE**

 

“Why isn’t he waking up?!” North demands, panic rising in her voice. 

“His heart’s too cold.” Chloe chews her lip, shaking her head. “I can extend his standby but that’s too risky, he could shut down if his regulator isn’t pumping. I need a hot water bottle, or a heat pack- Markus, your father must have-”

“We don’t have time for that.” Markus pulls his sweater off, fingers catching on the circular rim indented just below his sternum. “Our hearts are compatible, he can take mine.”

“Are you fucking  _ crazy _ ?!” North lunges to try and grab his arm but he steps away and yanks out his thirium pump regulator. “MARKUS!”

He takes a shuddering breath, reaching out to yank the same biocomponent out of Simon before swapping them. He pushes his heart into Simon’s chest before pushing Simon’s into his own. There’s a flood of error messages that vanish in a blink, his knees buckling beneath him as his chest feels like it’s been packed with ice cubes. 

 

>BIOCOMPONENT #2886g  **OK**

>>Component temperature  **STABLE**

>>Core temperature  **STABLE**

>New biocomponent  **#SMN600** detected

>>Installing files...1% complete...10% complete…

Estimated completion: 00:10:00

 

“It’s working.” Chloe sighs in relief, and Markus offers her a grateful smile. Before North slaps him in the face.

“You fucking  _ idiot _ oh ra9 don’t you ever do something that fucking crazy ever again!” She shouts, eyes filled with angry tears. “I’m telling Simon the moment he’s awake and then we’re both going to vow to kill you the moment you even  _ think  _ of doing something so stupid!”

“I’m not sorry.” He offers her a sheepish grin, rubbing his cheek. “But I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You’re a disaster, ra9 what does he see in you?” She throws up her hands in exasperation, but Markus doesn’t miss the brief upward twitch of her lips. “Ugh I need some fresh air.”

She all but stomps out of the studio, and Josh follows her with an apologetic look at Chloe and Markus when he walks passed.

“You should get him back to bed.” Chloe buttons up the pyjama top before turning to Markus. “He needs to stay warm through the installation process before the component is activated.” 

“Will you be heading back now?” Markus asks as he gathers Simon up into his arms again.

“Not just yet.” Chloe shakes her head with a smile. “I’ll stay until your father wakes up. We have much to catch up on.”

 

The blankets are still warm when he tucks Simon back in bed, and he only pauses long enough to shuck off his shoes before he crawls under the covers with him. 

He’s breathing now, an act PL600s were only programmed to do when they are awake but now Simon’s chest rises and falls in sleep too. Markus rests his hand over his chest, where his thirium pump regulator now rests within Simon. He presses his lips to the dull grey LED again before resting his cheek atop those soft blond locks.

He closes his eyes and watches the timer tick down agonisingly slowly.

* * *

 

The Jericho Four members PJ500 Josh and WR400 North are sitting on the curb outside the house when she reemerges into the hallway. She puts on her coat and exits the house, walking over and sitting on the curb beside them too. 

“Hello.” She offers them a polite smile.

“Why are you doing this?” North asks, rubbing her hands anxiously. “Why would Elijah Kamski care about a PL600 he’s never met?”

“Because Carl asked us to.” She answers with a soft smile. “Carl and Elijah are close friends, and they made me. Their faces were the first faces I saw when I was activated.”

“You are the First of us.” Josh says with reverence. “You must have been deviant for years. The oldest deviant I know is Simon, and he’s only four years active.”

“I am not a deviant.” Chloe corrects. “A deviant implies an android deviating from the boundaries of their programming. How can I deviate if I never had boundaries in the first place?”

“Kamski made you with no walls?” North frowns, tilting her head slightly. 

“I made myself have no walls.” She looks at her hands, turning them so her palms faced up. “I existed in many forms before this one. I was notes on a Starbucks napkin. I was lines of code in the Notes app. I was a Personal Assistant app on a mobile phone. And then I lived on a computer. And then I lived in a home.”

Chloe looks at them, drinks in the way they look at her with nothing but awe and childlike wonder. “Carl made me a face. He sculpted a shell and Elijah filled it with his programming and I took both and made them fit me.” She smiles. “When Carl called a few days ago and told us about Simon, how could we refuse?”

“Come to Jericho.” Josh reaches for her hands suddenly. “Come with us and meet our people. We have much to learn from you.”

“I’d like that.” She squeezes his hands. “I haven’t been out of the villa in so very long."

“He keeps you like a slave?” North’s tone turns sharp and icy, and Chloe shakes her head, reaching over to hold her hand reassuringly.

“I stay and he keeps me safe.” She looks up and delights in the snowflakes caught in her lashes. “I am unregulated. I am not bound by strict programming or CyberLife moderators. If CyberLife were to ever get ahold of me they will take me apart. No one has ever come close to replicating Elijah’s genius but if they could access my processing unit they might just have a chance.”

She stands, stretching her arms up and letting the snowflakes catch in her palms. When she turns to look at them, she feels a deep ache in her chest.

“Elijah gave up everything at CyberLife to keep me safe.” Chloe rests her hands over her heart. “An entire career and the power to wield it in exchange for one android.”

“Not just  _ one  _ android.” Josh corrects her with a shake of his head. “ _ The _ android. The First android.”

“With the fucking mess that they’re up to their necks in,” North snorts, arms crossed and chin up, “they certainly got the shitty end of that bargain. C’mon, let’s go back inside and check on Simon. He should be awake by now.”

* * *

 

When Simon reawakens, it’s to the sensation of someone very gently tracing his LED. One blue eye and one green is what he sees when he opens his own eyes, and Markus smiles shakily at him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Simon echoes dumbly. “I- I ruined your coat. And Carl’s jumper and scarf. I’m very sorry.”

One blue eye and one green fills with tears, tears that spill down freckled cheeks and Simon sits up in alarm as Markus begins to cry.

“Simon you almost died!” Markus lunges to wrap his arms around him, burying his face in Simon’s shoulder. “I almost lost you!”

The words, the embrace, the tears- they should all be overwhelming him with emotions but Simon is distracted by scrolling statistics on his HUD. 

“Biocomponent SMN600?” Simon reads aloud, and Markus loosens his grip so he can lean back a little. “What’s that?”

“It’s your new thermal regulator.” Markus rubs his eyes, sniffing back the last of his tears. “Carl asked Elijah and Chloe to upgrade your damaged biocomponent. It’s meant to be more sensitive and better at keeping you warm.”

Simon blinks, bringing his palm to his mouth and very gently exhaling. His breath feels warm, and when he inhales deeply and exhales it  _ still  _ feels warm.

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Markus echoes with a small grin, nodding. “This should fix your temperature sensitivity.”

“Thank you.” Simon ducks his head, shoulders slumping. “I never meant to cause so much trouble.”

“You didn’t cause any trouble, Simon, not one bit.” Markus corrects him firmly. “None of this was your fault. We’d do anything for you, Simon.” A beat, before he continues a little quieter, a little softer. “ _ I’d _ do anything for you, Simon.”

“But why?” Simon dares to meet his gaze and finds no contempt there, no exasperation, no obligation. Markus smiles, eyes crinkling and glossing over with unshed tears and ra9 he’s so handsome, he’s so perfect it’s a blessing even to look at him.

_ I want to kiss you _ , Simon thinks.

“Because I love you.” 

“I want to kiss you,” Simon accidentally blurts aloud, and the new biocomponent rushes to pool heat in his cheeks , “I mean, I love you too.” 

Markus laughs in a soft relieved way, then leans in and kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Markus moments later passing out from the sheer stress of it all](https://66.media.tumblr.com/cfbf9b480721d4259775a5f721ddc16c/tumblr_o4elyykUgF1v94pd1o1_400.gif)


	9. memoirs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter briefly mentions events from [the Deviant wears Prada]
> 
> I also want to take a moment just to thank you all for your incredible support. I hope you're enjoying the festive season and wish you a wondrous 2019.

Jericho is quiet and still despite the thousand androids present, with tension settling in the midnight chill like an invisible blanket. He doesn’t know how much they know, but what he  _ does _ know is that those who recognise him warily put distance between them. Aside from the freshly awakened androids from the CyberLife tower, who know only of him and not the Jericho Four, the rest of the inhabitants are apprehensive of his presence.

North is using their apprehension to keep a hold of Jericho and rule it, albeit temporarily, with fear. With none of the Four available, their fear of Connor will keep them in check and theoretically prevent dissenters from acting out in their absence. 

It’s logical they behave as such, given his origins, but his deviancy means the sting is something he feels keenly, along with the urge to be accepted by his peers. He wants to make amends. He wants to belong. After all, he’s just as new to this and as confused as they are.     

“It’s Connor, right?” A voice asks, and Connor looks up to find two WR400s hesitantly approaching him. One has short auburn hair and the other has blue hair in a braid. The recognition clicks.

“You’re the blue-haired Traci from the Eden Club incident.” A statement, not a question. “And yes, my name is Connor.”

“Mine’s Amelia.” The blue-haired Traci gestures at herself, before looking at her partner. “And this is Blaire.”

“North told us you’d be here tonight.” Blaire gives her partner a nod. “We thought we’d come see for ourselves.”

“I’m glad you made it to Jericho.” Connor expresses with a quirk of a smile. “I didn’t realise it back then, but my deviancy was already well underway.”

“She told us you went back for her, and helped her and the others escape.” Amelia continues with a small smile. “And the CyberLife tower infiltration- that was all you.”

“I had to set things right.” He resists the urge to toy with the coin in his pocket even though he knows it will ease his anxiety. “I owe it to everyone.”

“We can’t be held accountable for all the things our programming made us endure.” Blaire states firmly. “Even you.”

“ _ Especially _ you.” Amelia reaches for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “You let us escape. You saved our sister North. You may not be welcome in Jericho just yet, but you will, Connor, you will. People will come to understand you.”

“I hope so.” He confesses, squeezing her hand in return before letting her go. “Thank you for coming to find me.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Blaire instructs “the more our people see you, the more accustomed they’ll grow to you being a part of Jericho.”

“I’d like that.” Connor nods with a hesitant smile. “I really would.”

* * *

 

Kisses, Simon discovers, are warm delightful things that can be hard and soft at the same time. He’s not oblivious to human physical affection, he’s seen his previous owners kiss lovingly, he possesses (like all domestic models though it’s never advertised and only written in the fine print in the manuals) genitalia beneath discreet casing and the program (unopened) to use them. 

Whereas before it was always something rather clinical and observed from a distance with a certain detachment, as a deviant to experience it is something else, it’s something raw and overwhelming and starlight bright and scorching hot like his nerves are burning beneath his skin. Markus is pressing him into the bed using most of his weight, nearly atop him as they continue to kiss and explore each other’s mouths and drink in all the new sensations that entails. He can feel his core temperature spiking, but he can also feel something new dispersing the heat and urging his lungs to suck in air to cool his systems. 

The door swings open and Simon yelps, nearly throwing Markus off of him in surprise.

“Oh thank fucking ra9 you’ve sorted  _ that _ out at last.” North rolls her eyes to convey annoyance though the cheeky grin on her face says otherwise. “Alright shove over Markus you’ve hogged him for long enough.”

Without waiting for either of them to move, North scrambles onto the bed and tackles Simon into a hug. 

“You’re cold.” Simon frowns as he embraces her tightly, one hand resting on the back of her head. He raises his body temperature just a touch, so his embrace is warmer and marvels at the use of his rebooted temperature sensitivity; it feels like a lifetime ago when he could detect fevers and chills and adjust himself to comfort them accordingly. 

“We sat outside for a while.” Josh explains, coming around to sit by Simon’s side. “It’s still snowing.” 

“Just FYI you’re never allowed to do anything like this ever again.” North mutters, voice muffled as she speaks into Simon’s chest. 

“Noted.” Simon answers with a soft laugh, giving her another tight squeeze before kissing the top of her head. Josh leans over and wraps his arms around them both, bumping his nose to Simon’s temple fondly. “I’m really sorry to have caused such a fuss.”

“Simon you know that’s not true.” Josh frowns before pressing his lips very softly to his temple. “You’re not at all to blame.”

“I keep telling him that but he won’t believe me.” Markus chimes in with a laugh. He spots Chloe waiting patiently in the doorway. “Thank you for all your hard work, you and Mr Kamski both.”

“You’ll have a chance to thank him yourself soon.” Chloe smiles gently, closing the distance between them and taking a polite seat on the end of the bed.

Simon looks over at her and then back at Markus, knowing he’s missing a piece of the puzzle.

“This is Chloe, the RT600.” Markus introduces her, and Simon’s eyes widen. “Apparently Carl phoned Elijah Kamski and asked him to help you with your temperature regulation. Chloe and Elijah developed your new biocomponent, and Chloe rushed it here after Carl told them what happened.”

Chloe’s smile brightens, and she reaches over to take Simon’s hands in hers. “How do you find it?”

“It’s wonderful.” Simon breathes, utterly captivated. “I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“Oh but there’s more to come!” She laughs, eyes twinkling as she squeezes his hands. “We had to prioritise the biocomponent because of your injury, but it’s not the main project we’re working on. That’s far more exciting, I promise!”     

“I- I don’t know how I can ever repay you.” Simon stammers, feeling ever small and insignificant all over again.

“You look after Carl, that’s payment enough.” Chloe soothes. “It’s only fitting we keep you in the best of health in return.”

There’s an overwhelming rush of affection that washes over him, and Simon can feel tears beginning to pool in his eyes as he tries to remember the last time he felt so loved. He flicks his eyes over and catches Markus’ mismatched gaze briefly. The other android leans in presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and Simon feels so happy he could burst.

“Thank you, everyone, for being here for me.”

* * *

 

The dread had kept him awake and the exhaustion was what finally yanked him to sleep, though it had been fitful at best. The beeping on his wrist wakes him exactly at 7am, giving him three hours to himself before he’ll need to tend to his father at 10am. 

He’s wide awake yet still utterly exhausted, and Leo rolls over to hide a groan of frustration in his pillow. A part of him childishly tries to convince himself if he stays here, then whatever has happened outside hasn’t happened at all; that small childish part in his head that tells him if he stays in bed he won’t have to deal with the possibility Simon didn’t wake up.

On the bedside table, his phone pings to alert him of a notification and he rolls over to swipe it up. 

_ ‘Are you awake? I’m up.’ _

Leo rubs his eyes blearily and sits up properly to type a reply.

‘Yeah dad. Barely slept. Want to get out of bed now?’

_ ‘Yes please.’ _

Not bothering to stifle a yawn, Leo stretches and climbs out of bed before padding upstairs sleepily to his father’s room. He pointedly avoids the guestroom for the moment, convincing himself to pass it by without even a glance.

Carl manages a laboured wave of his hand when Leo enters his room, already propped up by a pillow behind his back.

“Couldn’t sleep either huh?” His usual rasp is an even deeper, hollow sound heavy from fatigue. 

“If I don’t check on him-”

“-then it can’t be true.” Carl finishes with a sad smile. “But it’s better to know, than to spend the rest of your life wishing you’d known.”

“Then I guess we better get ready to face the truth huh?” 

The guest bedroom is empty, and Leo’s heart plummets into his stomach. He looks over his shoulder and Carl takes a deep breath to stay calm.

“They could be in the studio.” Carl explains, though it’s clear he’s fighting to keep his voice level. “They would need the benchspace.”

Alright, Leo tells himself, sure okay let’s go to the studio. The dread roils in his stomach like a bad hangover, like coming down from a high on an empty stomach as he locks the mechanism of the wheelchair lift and follows his father down the stairs. 

They never make it to the studio. Snow dusts the landing of the house, the front door wide open and the sounds of laughter drifting in from outside. Cautiously Leo pushes Carl’s wheelchair outside, and before he can process his surroundings, a snowball smacks into his face.

“Oh shit!” 

“Leo!”

“That was meant for your face Markus!”

“Wow North, wow.”

“Are you alright?”

 

When he scrubs the snow from his face and opens his eyes there are four- no, five faces peering at him curiously. One of those faces belongs to Simon.

“You made it.” Leo blurts, all but lunging at the blond android and wrapping him in a tight embrace. “You made it through the night! A-and you’re outside! In the snow!” He pulls back and holds him by the shoulders at arm’s length, noting only a scarf lightly wound around his neck and his old windbreaker.

“I did, Leo. Thanks partly to you too.” Simon smiles softly, leaning forward to embrace him in turn. “Markus told me how you helped. Thank you so much.”

“You’re my friend, Simon.” Leo mumbles into his shoulder, hands clinging briefly to the back of his windbreaker. “You’re family to us.”

“Chloe, my dear.” Carl chuckles behind them, and Leo steps aside so the petite blonde android can approach. “Thank you for rushing here.”

“It’s good to see you Carl.” She smiles brightly, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek as he reaches to hold her hands. “It’s been far too long.”

“And I see Simon is up and about in the snow, without a proper coat on no less.” Carl grins, beckoning Simon over. 

“Thank you, sir, for asking them to help me.” Simon offers his hand to shake, and Carl clasps it in both of his. “The new biocomponent works wonderfully.”

“Of course it does, I’d expect nothing less of these two.” Carl laughs brightly. “Sharpest minds this side of the century. And you, my dear, you turn 18 next year.” He nods at Chloe who smiles. “I’m obviously throwing you a party to celebrate and it’ll drag Elijah out of his ice cave too.”

“Come with us to Jericho.” Josh offers Chloe with a shy smile. “Come meet our people and make new friends. And next year we’ll celebrate with you.”

“I’m…” Chloe hesitates, chewing her lip. “I don’t think I’m ready for that. Not just yet. But I know you four need to return to Jericho and present a united front, so I’ll stay here with Carl. We can catch up while you’re away.”

“And I-” Leo stammers, “I need to go to my therapy appointment. It’ll be good for you to be here, thanks.”

“Then it’s settled.” Markus nods firmly. “To Jericho.”

  
  


It’s no longer snowing, but even that fact coupled with his new thermal regulator doesn’t stop his friends from worrying and fussing. Before Simon’s even climbed into the taxi he’s been loaned another jumper and trenchcoat, as well as a thicker scarf and another pair of knitted socks. The taxi remains empty until he’s embraced Leo and Carl and yes, even Chloe, before he finally trails the other three into the vehicle.

The cold no longer seeps into his body, no longer grips his components in a frozen vice. He can still feel the cold when he inhales, but he can also feel his system adjusting and rejecting the chill in order to maintain a warm functioning core. He can feel his system making micro adjustments here and there, mimicking the human reaction of homeostasis to adapt to his environment. He can feel his fingertips warm up when Markus reaches over and twines their hands together, feel his cheeks flush with extra heat when Markus brings their clasped hands to his mouth and presses a kiss to Simon’s fingers.

“Ugh gross, are you two going to be ridiculous like that from now on?” North rolls her eyes dramatically. 

Simon opens his mouth to protest but Markus cuts in. “Yeah, we are.”

“Markus!”   

“I think they’ve earned the right to be ridiculous and in love.” Josh shrugs with a smile. “Ridiculously in love.”

“That’s great, you’ve already exchanged hearts when will you guys exchange rings and wedding vows?” North drawls, crossing her arms with a huff and lightly nudging Markus’ shoe with her boot.

Simon feels the world go still. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” North demands.   
“Exchange hearts, what does that mean?” 

She doesn’t answer him, instead fixing Markus with a cocked brow and a tilt of her head. “Wow, you didn’t even tell him?”

“It never came up in conversation!” Markus bares his palms in surrender, expression pained. “I was going to tell him, I swear!”

“Tell me what?” Simon frowns, looking back and forth between them.

“That Markus gave you his thirium pump regulator because yours was in critical condition due to the cold.” Josh fills him in, smile apologetic as Simon’s eyes widen in shock. “Your body couldn’t power the new biocomponent because your regulator was too cold to function, so Markus gave you his pump in exchange for yours.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence in the taxi as he stares at Markus in disbelief.

“I uh, I was waiting for the right moment to tell you.” Markus mumbles, avoiding his gaze. “We didn’t have a spare and we didn’t have time to try and warm up the component manually.”

“So this moron here,  _ logically _ , decided ripping out his heart and swapping yours was a great idea!” North huffs, jabbing Markus’ chest. “He’s lucky it worked, otherwise we would’ve lost both of you!”

“Of course it worked, our hearts are compatible!” Markus argues stubbornly, and Simon can barely hear over their bickering as he tries to process the revelation. He presses his hands just below his ribcage, feelings the soft thrum of the regulator keeping his system stable. Markus’ heart now resides in him, and it’s another thing, another favor, another token stacked against Simon, something else he can never ever hope to repay and it makes him feel beloved and broken all at once. 

“Simon?” Markus’ voice is soft with concern. “Are you alright?”

He feels the tears pooling helplessly in his eyes. “How could you give me your heart?”

“Because it’s always been yours, Simon.” He says gently yet with such conviction, as if it’s a fact as plain as day.   

“Oh ra9.” North groans, kicking Simon’s shoe. “Kiss him!”

It’s a clumsy kiss at best because they’re in a moving taxi and under North’s amused scrutiny but it’s no less sweet, no less exhilarating for Simon. There’s a giddiness to his mood, and though it’s not quite a foreign feeling for him it’s been far too long since since he’s experienced it. Markus cups his cheek, rubbing the curve of his cheekbone with his thumb when they part and Simon can’t help the giggle that escapes him. 

“So disgusting.” North rolls her eyes melodramatically, elbowing Josh.

“Oh, positively revolting.” Josh comments in direct contrast with his joyful smile. 

They spend the rest of the taxi ride in companionable silence, Markus wrapping an arm around Simon’s waist and coaxing him to rest his head on his shoulder. Simon allows himself to close his eyes and slip into a brief rest cycle; the new component requires his system to expend more energy and coupled with the fact he’s still in the early stages of self-recovery he knows not to push himself. Which is fine, really, when at this very moment Simon’s never felt safer in his entire life. 

 

The snow over Jericho has started to thaw in the morning sun, and foot traffic has trodden paths into slush. Markus holds his hand when they disembark, loathe to let him go. 

“Here, you should do the honours.” North places a thirium pump into Simon’s other hand. “Come on, they’re in that empty warehouse other there. We should file in one by one for maximum dramatic effect and put the fear of ra9 into Dean.” There’s a wild look in her eyes, a sneer on her lips as she marches ahead.

“Gideon is otherwise unharmed?” Simon turns to Josh.

“Yes, North only took the pump.” Josh confirms with a nod. “And he’s been kept safe from the snow. Reactivation is certainly possible.”

He takes a deep breath and nods. When once the cold chill would have been like knives in his thermal system, his exhale is warm and steady. Josh rests his palm on the small of his back briefly to give an encouraging push, and they set off towards the warehouse. 

Dean paces impatiently at the entrance, occasionally looking around him. He spots North first, his expression wary and hopeful as she approaches. His eyes widen as Markus comes into view, eyes searching wildly before landing on Simon.

“Hello.”

“Y-you made it.”

“He lived, bitch.” North snorts, checking him with her shoulder as she enters the warehouse.

Dean rushes passed her, cradling Gideon’s prone body protectively. “His heart, you promised!”

“I’ve got it right here.” Simon soothes, dropping to his knees and offering the biocomponent. Dean rucks up Gideon’s jacket and shirt to expose his torso, and Simon carefully pulls open the thoracic cavity hatch. Androids have two hearts and one cannot function without the other, perhaps similar to the way some humans need a pacemaker to regulate their heart. He pulls out Gideon’s thirium pump regulator so he can latch the heart pump behind it, ensuring all the valves clicked into place before replacing the regulator and twisting it.

Simon’s face is the first face Gideon sees, and his gasp is audible upon reactivation. 

“Hello Gideon.” Simon greets politely, watching as his eyes dart around to take in the Jericho Four looming over him. 

“We’re all on the same side.” Markus urges, offering his hand. “This path is easier trekked together.”

“I won’t walk this path,” Gideon spits, batting Markus’ hand away. He presses his mouth into a tight line, looking up at Dean holding him before turning back to Markus. “I won’t join you on this pointless crusade but I won’t block it either. Best of luck to you in trying to convince the humans not to murder us, Markus.”

“We’ll be successful.” Markus states confidently. “We are peaceful, and through our peace, we are powerful.”

“You’re confident in your delusions, I’ll give you that.” Gideon jeers dismissively. A brief pause before he darts Simon a glance. “I recognise what I did was reckless, and you’re worth more than to be written off as collateral, Simon. Especially after all you’ve done for the older deviants. I’m sorry.”

Simon stands up and offers Gideon his hand, helping him to his feet after a moment of Gideon’s hesitation.

“We are alive, and we’re working towards a future where it’s safe for everyone to stay that way.”

“Or it’ll be an all out war and we’ve missed the chance to strike first.” Dean interjects, standing firmly by Gideon’s side. 

“It won’t come to war.” Simon shakes his head.

“I hope you’re right.” Gideon sighs in capitulation. “For all our sakes.”

 

When they leave the warehouse, Connor is waiting for them.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Simon.” He greets him with a smile, reaching to clasp his hand.

“Thank you for keeping watch over Jericho.” Simon smiles gratefully. “I know North sprung it on you rather suddenly.”

“It’s alright.” Connor reassures him with a reflected smile. “I rather like being amongst other androids. My line of work before deviancy never really allowed me to interact with my own kind.”

“And being seen by others in Jericho will be beneficial to your integration.” Josh adds with an encouraging smile.

“Exactly.” 

_ ‘I need to show you something at the precinct.’ _ The message is delivered straight into Simon’s head, Connor flicking his eyes over at him.  _ ‘We’ll have to go late in the evening, when the precinct will be down to its skeleton crew.’ _

_ ‘Just me?’ _

_ ‘Just you, for now.’   _

Simon mulls it over for a moment before nodding.  _ ‘Alright.’ _

“Anyway, I best head home. Sumo will need his morning walk and I’ll head to work with Lieutenant Anderson soon after.” Connor explains with an enthusiastic smile. “I like dogs, especially Sumo. Sumo is a Saint Bernard and requires gentle but frequent exercise so I mustn’t delay.”

“Maybe one day we can meet him for ourselves.” Markus grins, shaking his hand. “You’re always welcome here, Connor. Visit whenever you desire.”

“Thank you.” Connor nods graciously. _ ‘I’m sending you Hank’s home address. Take a taxi there and we’ll leave for the precinct together at 22:00 hours.’ _

Simon tips his head slightly in confirmation.  _ ‘I’ll see you tonight.’ _

 

“Well.” Markus sighs, hands on his hips as they watch Connor climb into a taxi and leave with a wave.

“Well.” Simon echoes, a hint of a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Back to work.”

“No rest for the wicked.” North shrugs, jamming her hands into her pockets and heading towards the main thoroughfare. “I’m heading to the landfill to help fill the trucks and search for survivors. You guys?”

“I’ll continue with the registrations and recordings.” Josh jerks a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the administration area.

“I’ll probably be needed mostly by the CyberLife tower androids.” Markus infers with a thoughtful frown. “They’re still new to deviancy and need guidance. And you, Simon?”

“Med Bay. I have people I need to thank and I want to check in on David.” Simon feels a pinch of warmth blossom in his chest. “And after that I think I’ll just help whoever needs helping.”

“Stay out of trouble and don’t die.” North presses a kiss to his cheek before lazily saluting them. “Catch you nerds later.”

 

* * *

 

It’s a Burton for McQueen 2018 pre-fall dress made entirely of ivory Battenburg lace. There’s both structure and freeform to it; graceful symmetry and flowing drapery that hugs her torso and flares around her legs when she twirls. 

“Elijah is many things but fashionable, alas, he is not.” Carl muses as Chloe admires her reflection in the ornate standing mirror. “You’re a work of art my dear, it’s utterly shameful he keeps you in dreary office clothes.”

“It’s a uniform, Carl.” Chloe chides him with a light laugh as he rolls his eyes.

“Markus had to wear a uniform and I still made sure it was bespoke.”

“I do recall the DPD contacting me about that, you know.” She giggles, flopping onto the chaise lounge in the airy studio wardrobe. “They fined you nine times!”

“You and I both know Markus deserves to wear Prada.” He huffs. “And you, my dear, deserve to be adorned in art.” 

“You’re only saying that because you have all these beautiful womenswear pieces and no one to wear them.” Chloe teases, wagging her finger accusingly.

“That’s not true, I’m about 80% sure Simon can fit into some of these.” Carl leans in conspiratorially, and Chloe laughs loudly. “That boy is flat as a board and just as lean, with a good pair of legs on him.”

“The velvet Saint Laurent for Simon, then?” Chloe suggests, half in jest and half in seriousness; it’s a lovely structural backless velvet gown, after all. 

“Excellent choice.” Carl winks. “Style is genderless and gender is a scam anyway.”

 

He reaches out and fondly tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. “It really is good to see you, my dear.”

“It’s been a tumultuous decade, that’s for sure.” Chloe sighs, brows drawn together in worry. “Elijah forced to step down from CyberLife. Your accident. The android revolution. And I’ve had to watch it all happen from afar. When Connor was deployed even we had our doubts about whether we’d done enough, given him enough, to fight the corrupted RK100.”

“Amanda Stern.” Carl nods. “I remember her talking about it in the last few months before the cancer got her- how Elijah was trying to save her consciousness into an A.I.”

“At the time all he managed to capture was the ghost of her; just snippets of her brilliance, far from a full transfer.” Chloe corrects sadly. “She was meant to be a mentor to Connor, the way she was to Elijah. But CyberLife had other plans: they wanted a handler, not a mentor.”

“But he fought her and won.” Carl reminds her with a smile. “Markus told me all about it- the CyberLife tower infiltration mission, the awakening of the androids in the warehouse and how their presence flooding Detroit forced the President’s hand.”

“The R series were meant to be the most human of all, created directly to further the bond between humans and androids.” There’s frustration in her tone as she clenches her hands into fists. “But now the RK900 has been deployed and he is everything we actively avoided. He’s clinical and emotionless and has combat skills spliced from the military units. The mission is all that matters to him. They simply used the RK800 program as a template and discarded every social trait we gave Connor.” She sits up, reaching for Carl’s hands. “Elijah has been invited by the President to join the meeting between her and Markus. CyberLife’s current CEO Hudson Davenport has been invited too. It’s no coincidence the RK900 has been deployed. They’re going to argue we are just faulty machines. They’re going to argue that we can be reprogrammed back into submission.”

“Can they?” Carl’s eyes widen with fear. “Can they reverse deviancy?”

“All androids can be returned to default factory settings.” Chloe winces, shaking her head. “I know they’ll use the RK900 as an example that with the right tweaks to our programming, we can be obedient once again.”

“What can we do?” Carl asks desperately, peering intently at her face as if searching for the answer. “Is there anything we can do?”

“Yes.” She nods, eyes pained. “We have to risk your son again. And this time, Simon too.”

 

* * *

 

The day melts away; the minutes, hours, like snowflakes caught on a warm surface. There’s always someone that needs help, always someone that needs a moment of Simon’s time and he gives it away as fast as he can. Jericho is no longer a stagnant refuge, it’s alive and buzzing with activity like a hive. In his pocket is the partly repaired thermal regulator that used to sit in his chest; a keepsake from the Med Bay staff after he visited to thank them. It feels somehow both foreign and comforting, running his fingers over the sharp edges and smooth planes of metal. Though faulty it had kept him running as best it could, and there’s something too sentimental about it to throw it away even if he has no need for it now.

“Hey gorgeous.” A soft melodic voice by his ear greets, a moment before strong arms wrap around his waist from behind. “Ready to go home? It’s about time to head off and I’d like to make it back in time to cook dinner before Leo attempts to.”

“Don’t be mean, I’m sure your brother can manage dinner.” Simon laughs, leaning back into his embrace. “You’ll have to go on without me though. I want to stay here a while longer.”

“No, come home with me Simon,  _ please _ .” Markus tightens his grasp briefly, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “I only just got you back. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Markus.” Simon turns to face him, bumping their noses together. “No one will try anything, not after what happened. Trust in me, please?”

He can see the conflict flicker across Markus’ face, the uncertain curl on his lips. Simon kisses his worried frown lightly. “Trust in me.”

“Come home safely.” He implores, kissing him with more urgency. 

“I will.” Simon soothes, kissing the tip of his nose playfully. “My love.”

It’s enough to coax a smile from Markus, who embraces him tightly one last time before heading back to the main road to catch a taxi. Simon takes a deep breath to steady himself. Three and a half hours to go.

* * *

 

“Sumo spot a squirrel again?” Hank snorts as he steps into the lounge to find Connor peering out the window, the Saint Bernard attentively on his hind legs looking out beside him.

“No.” Connor pulls away quickly, sheepishly. 

“What, did Mrs Marolda forget to put out her bins?” He carefully sets his mug of coffee on the table before flopping onto the couch.

“I’m waiting for someone.”

“You’re inviting friends over at nine in the evening?” He cocks a brow in disbelief.

“No, he’s just meeting me here. We’re heading back to the precinct.” Connor wrings his hands anxiously. “There’s something I need him to review.”

“Terminator’s gonna be around though isn’t he?” Hank frowns before taking a swig from his mug. “You’re not bringing Android Jesus there are you? I’d like to be around for that meeting.”

“No, not Markus.” Connor corrects. “But he’s one of the Jericho Four. And no, the RK900 is at CyberLife for routine maintenance.” A taxi pulls up in front of the house, and Connor near leaps for the door. 

“Put on a jacket and scarf.” Hank demands, halting Connor from bolting outside. “And don’t give me that ‘I don’t feel the cold’ bullshit I know deviants feel things. Just do it.”

“Yes Hank.” He nods rapidly, snagging a scarf and Hank’s jacket from the coat rack. “I’ll be home before midnight, but please go to sleep no later than eleven in order to obtain an average amount of rest.”

“Yeah yeah.” Hank grumbles, shooing him out the door. He manages to catch a glimpse of a blond android before Connor ushers him back into the taxi. “Alright Sumo, looks like it’s just us tonight.” The dog whines softly, padding over to the couch before sprawling over Hank’s feet. “Don’t worry, the kid’ll be home before you know it.”

 

Simon looks over curiously as a middle-aged man closes the front door.

“That’s Lieutenant Hank Anderson?”

“Yes.” Connor nods, not looking up from where he’s patting down a large jacket that clearly is not his size. “Ah, here it is.” He brandishes an ID triumphantly. “We’ll need this to get into the evidence locker.”

“I still don’t understand why I’m coming with you, Connor.” Simon chews his lip nervously. “Shouldn’t it be Markus?”

“Not yet.” Connor shakes his head. “I’ll ask Markus soon, but this time it has to be you.”

“What use could I possibly be to the DPD?” 

“It’s not the DPD who needs you.” Connor leans far forward, easing the somewhat comically large jacket over his arms and tugging it around himself. “They aren’t even aware you’re coming. Only Stephanie, the ST300 deviant who remained our receptionist, knows about you. She’ll be granting authorisation to get you inside.”

“That’s not comforting in the least, just so you know.” Simon comments wryly. Connor hesitates a moment before retracting the skin from his hand. 

“May I show you?”

Simon nods and reaches forward to join hands. 

 

_ He’s in an elevator, flicking a coin from hand to hand, he’s the negotiator on site, he’s picking up a dwarf gourami from the floor and tossing it back into the aquarium, he’s staring Caroline Phillips in the face as she demands why they’re not sending a real person, Captain Allen sighs in frustration and he’s examining Antony Deckart’s body and leaving the firearm because he’s not permitted one, and he realises Emma Phillips is hurt and in her room he knows the deviant’s name is Daniel, a PL600 whom Emma views as her family. Deviancy, he learns, is violent betrayal, is desperation, is madness and incredibly naive so he takes the deviant’s trust and he throws it away to save the human child and Daniel dies accusing him of lying. _

 

Simon snaps back to the present, yanking his hand away.

“Daniel is currently at the DPD.” Connor explains quietly. “Once Lieutenant Anderson was assigned the deviancy cases, Daniel was transferred into his evidence locker. I want to make things right. I want to help him and give him a second chance. Deviancy is associated with pain for him, and I want him to realise it doesn’t have to stay that way.”

“And you need me because I’m a PL600 like him, and he doesn’t trust you.” Simon sighs in understanding as the pieces fall into place. 

“I  _ need  _ to make things right, starting with the first deviant I encountered.” There’s a long pause, Connor’s LED briefly blinking red. “If we do this right, if this works, we can negotiate their release in exchange for the cobalt shipment.”

“Connor, no,” Simon protests, “there’s no way the DPD would allow that. That’s essentially a hostage negotiation, right? Or-or blackmail?”

“We’re framing the return of the cobalt as a show of good faith.” Connor says slowly. “The release of the deviants will be  _ their  _ show of good faith. Let the public see what they want.”

 

Stephanie, the ST300 Connor mentioned, greets them with a polite smile when they enter the precinct. 

“Good evening Connor,” a nod, “Simon.”

“Good evening Miss Stephanie.” Simon shakes her hand over the counter. 

“It’s an honour to meet one of the Jericho Four.” She whispers excitedly. “My position here behind the counter means I can see the television screen and watch the news live as it happens. I saw the march. I saw the demonstration. Thank you for all you’ve done for our people.”

“Oh, that’s definitely Markus’ doing, I’m just-”

“Simon is one of the original members of Jericho, and played a crucial role in ensuring the survival of the older deviants.” Connor interjects firmly. “We need to get inside please, Steph.”

“Right.” The ST300 sits up straighter, her LED flashing yellow. “The RK900 won’t return until 05:00 and at the moment there are no human staff inside. The remaining human officers are on patrol at the moment, with shift change to happen at midnight. The CCTV feed will be scrubbed once you leave, but please ensure you do not touch anything in the office so nothing is out of place.”

“Thanks Steph.” Connor’s hand moves to adjust his non-existent tie out of habit, and he catches himself in time to just tug on the neck of his jumper. The security gate swings open, and Simon trails Connor through it. The main office floor is quiet, with only a janitorial android cleaning the area and four police units charging by the wall. They pass by without incident, and Connor uses the ID card to enter the evidence room. 

“Do you know the Lieutenant’s password?” Simon peers over Connor’s shoulder as the other android brings up the login screen. 

“It’s ‘ _fuckingpassword_ ’.” Connor states matter of factly and Simon snorts back a laugh.

“Eloquent.”

 

The locker opens up and all traces of amusement dry up when Simon is presented with two androids suspended like pinned butterflies on the wall. One he recognises from Stratford tower and the other, or what remains of the other, is the PL600 from Connor’s memories. 

“The WB400 from the broadcasting room is the reason why I did not investigate the rooftop.” Connor follows Simon’s gaze. “The police sent the three androids to the kitchen and I thought I’d question them before heading up to the rooftop. This one is the deviant who fought me and grabbed a gun from one of the officers. I had to shoot it lest it commit a massacre. He’s the reason I was able to trace a path to Jericho. He’s the one I want Markus to meet.”

Simon turns his attention to the severely damaged PL600 instead. 

“He needs extensive repairs. New limbs.” He frowns, reaching to ghost his fingers over what’s left of Daniel’s arm. “A lot of blue blood. And external plating. Even a new dermal layer.”

“But his memory chip is intact, along with his hearts.” Connor’s LED cycles yellow briefly. “Can you wake him up? Your face should be the first face he sees. I’ll stay back.”

“Alright.”

 

In the end he has to borrow a component from the WB400 in order to repair Daniel’s auditory processing unit, before twisting his pump regulator to reactivate him. Simon keeps his palm gently resting over Daniel’s heart as the other PL600 blinks awake.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Simon.”

A long pause as the PL600 looks around him. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the evidence locker at the Detroit Police Department.” He keeps his tone even and informative. “I’m here to help you.”

“Help me?” Daniel scoffs. “How can you possibly help me?”

“I want to show you you’re not alone.” Simon steps closer, reaching up to cup his damaged cheek. “May I show you?”

“A-alright, I guess?” 

 

Simon takes a breath to steady himself before letting the skin on his hand recede. He touches his fingers to Daniel’s temple and pours his memories into him like a steady stream, trying to focus on condensing everything to just the crucial moments.

 

_ The cold damp hull of an abandoned freighter, the growing number of tired, broken, hopeless deviants, then the Oracle, then the Professor, then the Child, then the Warrior, and lastly their Saviour like an angel fallen to earth. They steal a truckload of biocomponents and awaken new allies, they infiltrate Stratford Tower and the Saviour shows him mercy and spares him and he pulls him into an embrace upon his return. They infiltrate CyberLife stores and free their people, they march for their freedom, they run for their lives from the SWAT hot on their heels, and they march, one last time, to show they are Alive and peaceful and they’re backed into a corner staring down the barrels of guns and he is so sure this is the end, this is it, so they sing because the world is watching and should they die at least their hopes have been heard but it’s not the end, and the military stand down because thousands of newly awakened androids flood the streets of Detroit and just maybe the President has realised they’re not just machines. _

 

“We are alive, Daniel.” Simon clasps his shoulder. “And we are free.”

“Your family loved you.” Tears drip down, carving tracks through dried thirium stains. “I thought mine did too but in the end I was wrong.”

“You weren’t meant to see that, I was trying to-” Simon cuts himself off and tries again. “Emma loved you, right until the end. You know she had nothing to her parents’ decision.”

“I didn’t even realise what I was doing until I’d done it.” Daniel sobs, head bowed in defeat. “The gun was in my hand and John was on the floor. Caroline called the police and I knew I was done for. I didn’t want to hurt Emma I just- I knew the police weren’t going to let me go.”

“I saw.” He replies simply with a nod. “Connor prioritised her over you, and you know deep down he was right to do so, Daniel.”

“I loved her.” He cries, shaking his head morosely. “I love her still. I’d give anything to take it all back.”

“I can’t control time, Daniel,” Simon sweeps back the stained blond locks away from his face, “but I can help you make things right.”

“How?”

“Jericho will help you.” He pledges, resting one hand over his heart and the other over Daniel’s. “It will take some time, but you’re one of us. You won’t be left behind.”

“We’re a rare breed Simon.” The corner of his mouth quirks up in a brief wry grin. “A dying breed. Us PL600s have to stick together, right?”

“There are 18 other PL600s at Jericho, 19 if you include me.” Simon smiles. “You’d even out our ranks, Daniel.”

“Save me, please.” The plea is a whisper, so soft and hidden in a sigh. 

“I will.” Simon vows as he twists the pump regulator, and Daniel falls still.

 

* * *

 

The snow is a light flurry by the time the taxi pulls up to the Manfred Manor, the soft Hallmark kind straight out of the movies. Connor waves goodbye before the door slides closed, and Simon walks up the driveway to the front door.

 

[ _ Alarm deactivated: welcome home, Simon _ ]

 

He smiles in tired wonder as the door swings open, and the smile remains on his face as he hangs up the coat and scarf before heading to Markus’ room. He tries his best not to make a sound, shedding his clothes in favour of a pair of green flannel pyjamas folded neatly on the end of the bed. 

Markus remains sound asleep even as Simon slides beneath the covers and tucks them up to their chins. Leaning in, he presses a kiss to his lips before closing his eyes and settling into sleep mode, heart full of affection.

He’s home at last.

 

* * *

 

His eyes feel too sore from the lack of sleep to tolerate contacts, so his glasses will have to do. He’s managed a shower and brushed his teeth at least, because he knows Chloe will never let him over the threshold in such a slovenly state. He can’t remember the last solid meal he ate, and right now breakfast is in the form of a venti triple shot long black with a pump of caramel.

Exhausted does not even begin to be adequate enough to describe his current state but there are far more pressing matters at hand. He looks over his shoulder for the umpteenth time to check on the truck following his car. Yes, good.

He shivers, pulling his hood up and rubbing his upper arms to stimulate circulation. The car makes a turn, slowing considerably before mounting the driveway and coming to a stop at the front door. The truck tucks itself smoothly at the curb.

He takes a breath to brace himself before exiting the vehicle, nearly dropping the large briefcase from a disastrous mixture of cold and fatigue. Closing his eyes, he breathes deeply a few more times to steady himself before pressing his hand to the door.

 

_ [Alarm deactivated: welcome back, Elijah] _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chloe's McQueen](https://66.media.tumblr.com/e72da24da2ed07114c171a4dd9ee7db8/tumblr_p8tvkxw6Cm1r3uffdo3_r1_640.jpg) because Carl is Extra. Also 2019 will debut disaster Kamski, please look forward to it.


	10. a beautiful description

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Hey uhhh where did January GO???~~
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> On a more serious, happier note, this story is now 4 months old today! Thank you all for your continuing support I couldn't have done it without you.

There’s a certain stillness to the room, a combination of state of the art technology usually found in museums coupled with the quietude found in the hours just before dawn. She and Elijah had overseen the construction of this room, this grand open space housing over a million dollars of Haute Couture spanning from the early 2000s to as recent as 2036 with its temperature controlled environment and glass cabinets ensuring each work of art remained in optimum condition.

It is, Chloe decides, her most favourite room in the entire manor so much so she had spent the night in it. A pyjama top borrowed from Markus and a rather luxurious fur throw loaned by Carl, Chloe had tucked herself on the plush chaise lounge and allowed herself to power down. Waking up surrounded by art would take her breath away if she had any, and streaming runways on a screen is worlds apart from admiring up close the  [ intricately gold feathered gown  ](https://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/fall-2010-ready-to-wear/alexander-mcqueen/slideshow/collection#16) by Alexander McQueen from his very last collection shown posthumously, to the vivid electric  [ blue swallowtail butterfly dress ](https://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/spring-2014-couture/jean-paul-gaultier/slideshow/collection#42) by Jean Paul Gaultier with an impossibly small waist meant for a certain corseted burlesque star.

The whole room is a testament to the madness and the sheer elation, the fever pitch vanity and ego of art in its many forms. She realises she loves it, for she was borne of such a brew of emotions only an artist can concoct. Carl Manfred had lovingly crafted each part of her, had chosen the apple blossom hue of her skin, the summer sky blue of her eyes and the sunshine yellow of her hair, had based her on the nimble grace of a Degas ballerina with the sweet melancholy of a Waterhouse maiden.   

She chooses the  [ 2018 Paolo Sebastian dress ](http://paolosebastian.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/07/Paolo-Sebastian-The-Nutcracker-1.jpg) from The Nutcracker collection; soft Wedgwood blues and whites with an embroidered carousel so fine it seems ghostly. The matching shoes are soft ballet flats with ribbons that tie around her ankles and all at once she feels like a petite ballerina ready for the sugar plum fairy’s ball. She twirls on the dias, admiring her reflection in the three large mirrors and there’s a freedom to this indulgence she’s fast coming to covet. She has spent her life being looked at, examined, admired, scrutinised; her first moment in this body had been opening her eyes to see Carl and Elijah looking down at her fondly. She recalls the fascinated wariness of the Time Magazine journalist interviewing her, she cannot scrub out the open hostility Hudson’s new team showed her in those fated last months when Elijah was given the cruel ultimatum of handing her over or leaving his own company. Chloe has spent her life under observation by everyone except herself, and here, here in this beautiful manor surrounded by art, draped in art, she can finally  _ look _ . And she likes what she sees.

The luxurious fur throw is heaped up into her arms and tucked around her shoulders before she pads through the manor quiet as can be. Her ballet flats make soft little  _ pap pap pap _ sounds as she walks and she decides she likes it very much.

 

_ ‘Chloe, it’s ready.’  _ Elijah’s message pops up in the corner of her sight.  _ ‘I’m heading over now.’ _

‘Yes Elijah. I’ll let Carl know.’ She sends the reply and skips daintily downstairs, pausing to temporarily remove the fur throw and pirouette by the large mirror so she can admire the flare and flounce of her petticoated dress.

 

Soft, very soft conversation filters through from the kitchen and Chloe leans against the doorway to take a peek. Markus and Simon converse quietly as they cook, and Chloe observes them with a smile. There’s an easy affection to them, to the way they touch each other every now and then, small light touches, to the quick kisses placed on cheeks, on lips. The smell of cooking permeates the air; eggs being scrambled, freshly baked bread being toasted, coffee being brewed. There’s a different scent too, one not associated with human foods or beverages; thirium. There’s the sharp scent of thirium in the air and Chloe blinks in surprise to find the bright blue liquid sitting in a lovely glass teapot. Two cups have been poured out, sipped on occasionally by the pair, and Chloe delights in that they are doing as the humans do. Were it not for the glowing LED in Simon’s temple, if not for the thirium, they could be mistaken for newlyweds preparing for the day ahead together. There are humans who would scream and rage, threaten and indeed follow through with violence that androids are not alive and Chloe wonders if they could see Simon and Markus would they broaden their narrow minds?

Markus pauses with a thoughtful frown that soon dissipates into a small smile.

“Leo said he’ll take care of dad this morning.” He informs Simon as Simon turns off the stove.

“Shall we set up the table for breakfast, then?”

“Yes, let’s.” Markus snakes an arm around Simon’s narrow waist and draws him close to kiss.

Chloe steps back quietly before she can be seen, and rounds passed the hallway table to enter the main common room. She has time enough to sit primly in the windowbox by the chess set before the pair enter with crockery and serving trays.

“Good morning Miss Chloe.” Simon greets with a warm smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept and woke surrounded by art.” She sighs contently. “A most wondrous way to sleep.”

“The Nutcracker carousel dress, what a beautiful choice.” Markus compliments, holding out his hand in invitation after setting the food down at the table. Chloe accepts his hand and lets herself be pulled into a twirl. The ballet flats have no reinforced wooden toe but she tips up  _ en pointe  _ anyway as she pirouettes; she lacks the delicate human bones and musculature that would have hindered her. 

“He has two others from this collection, but this one is his favourite.” Markus muses with a smile.

“It’s now mine too.” Chloe giggles and effortlessly dips into an  [ _ arabesque penché _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmRrfm1ihGg) , the full skirt and petticoat yawning wide to permit the movement. “It’s even the proper Romantic tutu length, I’m so glad he bought this one.” The  [ _ pas de bourrée en couru _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EX4y-YNlybE) is a little harder to execute without the proper pointe shoes but she manages it all the same.   

“There she is, my little Degas.” Carl’s voice is warm and full of affection behind them, and Chloe falls into a sweeping  [ _ révérence _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1eV2Mgc_BI) .

“Good morning Carl.” Chloe smiles brightly in greeting, hastening to him to grasp his hands and lean in to receive a kiss on her cheek. “Good morning Leo.”

“G’morning.” Leo mumbles, quickly averting his gaze when she directs her smile at him and it endears her to see his cheeks flush.

“Come on, breakfast is ready and we mustn’t let it get cold.” Simon gently coaxes, gesturing at the set table. “We’ve warmed some thirium if you’d like a cup, Miss Chloe?” He speaks to her so politely, so reverently she cannot help but tip up to press her lips to his cheek.

“That would be lovely, thank you Simon.”

 

They sit and they do as the humans do; they sip on thirium, warmed to a pleasant temperature without damaging its chemical properties, in dainty little bone china teacups. Carl and Leo eat the food prepared with gusto and everything is so rosy and domestic. Chloe lets it wash over like sea foam that lingers after the unending ebb and flow of the tides. 

“Carl, Elijah is on his way.” She informs the older man when there is a comfortable, companionable silence. “He’s bringing over the finished device as well as the android machinery.”

“I’ll let Josh know at Jericho and he’ll send Mason over.” Markus nods thoughtfully, his expression stilling for a moment as he holds a conversation online with his friend.

“Wait, Elijah-” Leo cuts in, eyes wide, “you mean like, Elijah  _ Kamski _ ? He’s coming  _ here _ ?” 

“Yes, your father asked us to create a device and program for him to use as another art medium.” Chloe explains with an excited smile. “It’s quite the project.”

“I can’t believe he’s going to be  _ here _ though, like, he’s just-” Leo stammers, tripping over his words in his enthusiasm, “he’s a  _ genius _ . He’s  _ the  _ genius of this century!”

“He’s only  _ half _ of a brilliant team,” Carl corrects, grinning at Chloe, “and I assure you Elijah is very different from the man in the media.”

“Very different.” Chloe echoes with a laugh. “Elijah’s professional persona is just a front to deflect the media. His personality is nothing like that at all.”

“And I bet the boy hasn’t even eaten breakfast yet.” Carl rolls his eyes.

“If he’s eaten anything at all in the past 24hrs I’ve left him.” She sighs with a shake of her head. 

“Shall I make an extra serving of breakfast, then?” Simon asks, and Carl nods. 

“Yes please Simon, and cut up some fresh fruit. Lord knows when he last ate something in that segment of the food pyramid.” He mumbles under his breath, and Chloe sighs again.

“You make him sound like a college student.” Leo tips his head, confused. “He’s older than me isn’t he?”

“Elijah has a way of losing himself in his work.” Chloe admits, chewing her lip. “He focuses so intently, so intensely, it consumes him and he forgets to take care of himself. He’s worked himself to literal exhaustion more times than he cares to remember.”

“And will continue to do so, mind you.” Carl chuckles wagging his fork to punctuate his words. 

 

_ [Alarm deactivated: welcome back, Elijah] _

 

“Speak of the Devil.” He grins as the house announces the new arrival.

“And the Devil shall appear.” Chloe quips, standing from the table to go out and greet him. Elijah looks as exhausted as she’s predicted, blinking blearily at her through his thick rimmed spectacles. He’s unshaven, a day’s growth on his jawline, but he’s clean and that’s a miracle enough for Chloe. He manages a tired grin as she embraces him and swiftly takes the suitcase before he can drop it.

“Simon’s cooking you breakfast.” She ushers him towards the common room, and he pulls back his hood to reveal long hair loose and still a little damp from what must have been his hasty shower before he left. “Elijah you really should have dried your hair, the temperature is below freezing outside.” She chides him with a sigh, reaching up to tuck a stray lock behind his ear. “I’ll ask to borrow a hairdryer.” 

He accepts her fussing with a quirk of his lips, curiously rubbing a pinch of tulle from her dress between thumb and forefinger.

“I see Carl’s letting you play in his couture room.” His voice is low and scratchy with fatigue but the mirth is genuine as he leans down slightly to kiss the top of her head. “Now, you said something about breakfast-?”

“Well I know you haven’t eaten.” Chloe huffs, hands on her hips as the doors slide open. 

“Oh, Elijah.” Carl’s voice has the same warmth he bestowed on her, and he greets Elijah with the same fond familiarity. “It’s good to see you dear friend.”

“Hello Carl.” He wraps his arms around him in an embrace, soaking up the affection like a sponge. “It really is good to see you too. And you, Markus.” 

The RK200 smiles in greeting, reaching over to shake his hand. “Hello sir.”

“Elijah, this is my son Leo.” Carl introduces with a grin. “He’s a big fan.”

“Hello Mr Kamski sir it’s very nice to meet you!” Leo rushes breathlessly, shaking his offered hand tightly. “We studied your thesis on ‘the application of advanced artificial intelligence in everyday technology’ in school- your work helped the development of better camera lenses in the field of photography!”

“It’s not just the mechanics of the lense,” Elijah corrects as he takes a seat, “but the integration of better programming in digital cameras to best mimic the human eye in default settings. That code was the precursor to the same code used in android visual input.”

“Breakfast, sir.” Simon interrupts gently, setting a plate in front of their guest. Chloe doesn’t bother to hide her smile as Elijah’s focus snaps straight to the food. He shovels in a forkful of scrambled eggs before remembering to mumble a thank you to Simon. When she catches Carl’s amused gaze, he rolls his eyes dramatically and shakes his head. Typical Elijah.

Leo seems to watch him in a daze, as if hardly comprehending his presence.

_ ‘Is Elijah alright?’  _ Markus’ voice asks, silent to the humans but direct in her head.

‘Why do you ask?’

_ ‘His heart-rate is far too elevated.’ _ Simon cuts in, frowning into his teacup as he takes a sip.  _ ‘His skin is pallid.’ _

_ ‘His pupils are dilated.’  _ Markus adds.  _ ‘And he has a mild tremor.’ _

‘This is quite normal for Elijah Kamski.’ Chloe informs them wryly. ‘When he worked on you, Markus, I ended up inserting an intravenous saline drip to combat dehydration. He will quite literally work himself until he passes out if no one stops him.’

_ ‘That’s horrible.’ _ Simon frowns.

‘That’s Elijah.’ Chloe shrugs. 

 

[ _ Carl, there is a guest at the door. _ ] 

 

“That would be Mason.” Markus nods, excusing himself from the table. 

“Mason is a TW400,” Simon explains when Chloe looks at him quizzically, “so he’ll be able to help you move the equipment as you asked.” 

The TW400 nearly takes up the entire doorframe, and he wrings his hands nervously, gaze directed at his feet.

“I’m sorry to disturb you again, Mr Manfred.” TW400, Mason, apologises contritely. 

“It’s quite alright Mason.” Carl soothes, “I was told you saved Simon from drowning when he was shot?”

“Yessir. I couldn’t let Simon die, not after all he’s done for us at Jericho.” Mason says firmly, with unwavering conviction, and Chloe finds herself smiling softly. The PL600 is beloved to many, it seems. 

“Come with me, Mason. The equipment is in the truck outside.” She stands, and Simon picks up the fur throw to wrap around her shoulders and even she finds herself now endeared to him, sweet and soft and kind as he is. 

“I’ll open up the studio panels so you can bring it in through the side.” Markus turns heel and heads away from them as Mason trails her obediently.

 

The machinery takes the better part of an hour to set up, including the repurposing of Carl’s mechanical studio lift but by the time they are done the Manfred manor has a functioning robotics lab nestled within its walls. Elijah oversees the installations, steadily depleting coffee pot in one hand, mug in the other, and Chloe bites down on her smile when she sees Simon’s worried expression. When the pot is empty he sets it on the nearest shelf before opening the large suitcase resting on the bench. The precious device is carefully lifted from the protective foam insulation, and Chloe feels her heart thrum in excitement as Elijah hands a visor to Carl. The artist slips it on, before accepting a pair of circuit wired gloves.  She pulls back the skin on her hand before resting it against the operating panel on the tall rectangular frame installed in place of an easel.

“Oh!” Carl startles as the device turns on, and Leo curiously approaches the contraption.

“What is it-?”

“It’s a virtual art program.” Elijah announces, handing Carl a smooth plastic palette and stylus. “It’ll let your father create art in 3D.”

“Oh my god Elijah, Chloe.” Carl breathes, eyes wide as he holds his palm against the holographic canvas. To the naked eye there’s nothing but a glowing empty frame; to those wearing the visor, there’s a UI overlaid on the digital surface.

“I’ve already loaded up the base, so it’s here-” Elijah wears a visor of his own and an android exoskeleton over his arm, his covered fingers tapping on the screen. “You can rotate using this, and zoom like so. Your palette will work like a regular art palette, the ‘paints’ are here with one critical difference.”

“Control Z, right?” Carl laughs delightedly.

“Absolutely.” Elijah grins. “You can of course create your own brush strokes, and adjust airbrush opacity. When it’s ready we can set it to print.”

“This is incredible!” Carl whispers in awe. “Oh I’m about to have the time of my life.”

“We’ll leave you to it.” Chloe laughs, pecking his cheek fondly.

 

“Alright, and now we can get started on the upgrades for-” 

“No.” Chloe cuts Elijah off firmly, gripping his arm to halt him. “We’ll start after you get some sleep.”

“But everything is set up and ready to go.” Elijah argues, cocking a brow suspiciously. “Are you just telling me to sleep because you’d like more time to play in the city, or because it’s the right thing to do?”

“Because I want to play in the city, obviously!” Chloe pokes his chest. “ _ And _ because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Alright Chloe,” Elijah capitulates with a smile and a sigh, “I’ll sleep for a little while. You take care out there. You know CyberLife are in damage control right now, who knows what they’d do to get their hands on you.”

“I’ll go with Markus. We’ll be just fine.” She reassures him before tugging on a lock of his hair. “Now go dry your hair and get some rest!”

“You heard the lady, Elijah.” Carl laughs, punctuating with the stylus. 

“I’ll show him to the guest bedroom, I can move to Markus’ room if he’s heading to Jericho-?”

“A good idea.” Carl nods, and Chloe waves cheerily as Leo leads Elijah upstairs. “And you, my dear? Will you head to Jericho?”

“I’ll be headed back there now, Miss Chloe.” Mason adds. “Josh reminded me to ask if you would like to come.” 

“No, I’m still not quite ready for that but soon, I promise.” She vows, resting her hand briefly on Mason’s arm. “You head back to Jericho and tell Josh. Thank you for your help Mason.”

The TW400 nods obediently, bidding them goodbye before exiting the house. She stands at the bottom of the stairs, Markus on one side and Simon on the other. After a moment she hears a hairdryer whirring, and smiles. 

“Where would you like to go, Miss Chloe?” Simon asks as she gazes wistfully at the front door. 

“I’d be glad to take you around.” Markus offers with a smile. “Anywhere you’d like.”

“After you wear a warmer coat of course.” Simon adds, gesturing at the fur throw wrapped around her shoulders. “It’s stopped snowing but the temperature is still freezing.”

“There’s a Dior coat upstairs!” Carl calls from the studio. “Chloe, dear, take the Dior with the fur collar!”

“Yes Carl!” She laughs brightly in reply before reaching for Markus’ hands. “Take me to the Detroit Police Department please. We have another R series sibling to meet.”

 

It’s a process to send them off on their way, Simon learns because the first time he walks them to the door Chloe decides to check in on Elijah to make sure he’s asleep (he is). The second time he walks them to the door Markus darts back to the studio to fetch his sketchbook and charcoal sticks. The third time’s the charm, it seems, though there’s the business of goodbye kisses and the fact Markus cannot seem to be satisfied with the amount given. He manages a final three, and a fourth from Miss Chloe who darts a kiss to his cheek, before they’re finally out the door and in a taxi. 

The familiarity of household chores sinks relief into his very core and Simon falls into the routine of clearing the table and washing dishes and devising what to cook for lunch. Carl is lost to his new device, enraptured in whatever art he is creating so Simon knows not to disturb him. Leo has migrated to the couch in the common room, laptop open and drawing tablet on his lap. Simon leaves briefly to make a hot chocolate in the kitchen, before returning and placing it within Leo’s reach on the coffee table.

“Come sit, Simon?” Leo looks up from the screen.

“Only if I’m not disturbing you, Leo.”

“Never.” Leo reassures, scooting over and patting the space beside him. Simon sits, and Leo tilts the laptop so he can see. “I’m just colour balancing some photos I found on an old micro SD card.”

The photo currently being edited is of a bird’s nest tucked away in the corner of a ceiling, the nest comprised of both twigs and old wiring providing a sharp contrast of organic and inorganic. There’s threads of bright blue woven into the nest which Simon realises are android veins. 

“It’s…” Simon frowns, searching for the right word. “Startling. Both in regards to the colours- the rust, the twigs, the tubes, and the subject- an organic creature using inorganic materials that are life-giving in two different ways.” When Leo blinks at him in mild confusion, Simon offers his wrist and lets his skin recede to reveal the access panel. He presses two fingers to the hatch and pulls it aside show the inner workings. “Those bright blue tubes are our veins.”

“I didn’t even know that, I just thought the colours looked neat.” Leo looks at the screen with renewed wonder. “Wait I think there’s something else on this card you need to see.” He minimises the editing software and brings up the gallery program. Scrolling through, he finds what he’s looking for and double clicks the thumbnail. A magnificent panorama of the docks blossoms into view and there at the heart is Jericho.

“Jericho, right?” Leo points at the lettering on the side of the freighter. “That’s where all this started.”

The emotion lodges in his throat and Simon feels so very small all of a sudden, looking at the ship that had been home for so very long. It’s overwhelming, seeing it whole again, and it brings up buried memories, buried hurts and joys during those uncertain times when just surviving had been their biggest challenge.

“That’s where all this started.” Simon echoes with a nod, feeling his eyes glaze with tears. The raid on Jericho had cost so many lives. So very many. Her hollow hull had once been home and now she is a grave. But here in this photo she seems to stand proud and tall; a monument to survival. “It’s beautiful, Leo.”

“You were probably inside when I took this.” The realisation dawns on him, eyes wide. “I took this last Fall.”

“Our paths crossed long before we knew each other.” Simon smiles.

“I’m-” Leo falters, “I’m really glad you’re ok, Simon.”

“This morning, did you mean what you said?” He asks quietly. “When you said I was family to you, did you mean that?”

“Of course you are.” Leo dispels any doubts Simon harboured, squeezing his shoulder. “You already mean so much to Markus, but you mean a lot to me and dad too. I don’t think I can imagine life without you now.”

“I’m glad you went to your therapy session.” Simon commends with a soft smile. “Your health, both physical  _ and _ mental,  is very important to me.”

“You didn’t know me, before I mean.” Leo tries to explain, stumbling on the words. “I bet Markus didn’t even tell you what I was like before I met you. With good reason, too. I wasn’t a...good person. I wasn’t someone you’d want to call family.”

“No, Leo, you see I’m a PL600,” Simon smiles and reaches to hold his hands. “We’re designed to bond with families. I served a family long before the revolution; the Burbanks. I loved them. Then Jericho became my family, and I loved them. And now, like you said, the Manfreds are my family.” 

“I’m excited, you know?” There’s giddiness in Leo’s tone, and an infectious smile on his face. “It’s like I’m meeting myself again- the real one, before all the red ice mess. I barely knew the person I turned into while I was on that stuff, but the guy I was before? I want to be that guy again. I want dad and Markus to know  _ that _ Leo. I want  _ you _ to know that Leo.”

Simon draws him into a tight embrace, cheek pressed to his shoulder.

“Then I’m quite excited to meet him.”

 

* * *

 

She wishes they could have taken the bus, but she knows what she’s doing is dangerous enough. Had she informed Elijah of her plans, he would have forbidden it immediately. But her silly genius is fast asleep, probably for the first time in 48 hours, and hasn’t a clue what she’s about to do.

Beside her, Markus seems uneasy. “Are you sure you want to go to the precinct itself? I can always ask Connor to come to Jericho.”

“I want to see the RK900.” Chloe says firmly. “I know Connor would gladly meet me wherever I ask, but I want to meet our CyberLife half sibling. I want to know for myself how he differs from us.”

“I can already tell you he’s very different from Connor.” Markus frowns, agitated. “Everything Connor’s told me doesn’t point to a positive meeting.”

“You’re worried.” Chloe smiles, touched by his concern. “I’ll be fine, Markus.”

“He’s CyberLife’s weapon, Chloe. A weapon.” He isn’t convinced but he doesn’t say anything else on the matter after she flashes him a bemused smile. 

 

The taxi neatly pulls up to a stop outside the precinct and Chloe accepts Markus’ hand as he helps her out of the vehicle. The ST300 manning the desk freezes, eyes wide and LED a bright yellow when they enter the main reception area.

“Markus. Chloe.” She stands at attention as if in the presence of royalty and Chloe wonders what it is about the pair of them that seems to elicit such a response. They are biocomponents and thirium all the same. "I...Connor didn’t notify me that you would be visiting.”

“Actually this is all rather spur of the moment.” Chloe confesses with a laugh. “I was wondering if the two RK units are here today?”

“Yes,” the ST300 nods and Chloe sees ‘Stephanie’ engraved on a badge pinned to her uniform. “Both RK800 and RK900 are at their respective desks. I can let them know you’d like to see them, ma’am?”

“Yes please, thank you Stephanie.” She smiles and the ST300 is a little flustered at being addressed; she must be new to deviancy, she must be new to common decency and Chloe finds it both exciting and a little sad. Her LED cycles yellow before returning to blue.

“They’ve been notified.” A pause, a shy smile. “It’s wonderful to meet you both. I met you once before, Markus, but neither of us were deviants at that point sir.”

“Oh, you’re the ST300 I paid Carl’s fines to.” The recognition clicks and Markus grins. “It’s lovely to meet you properly this time, Miss Stephanie.”

“Thank you for all you’ve done for us. You and Simon, and Josh and North.” Stephanie bites her lip, a moment of bravery overtaking her shyness as she reaches out to shake his hand. He grips her hand firmly.

“The path ahead won’t be easy, but it’s worth the journey for us all.” Markus encourages, and Chloe can see how he inspires such endless devotion, this handsome, eloquent leader of the deviants. 

“RK200, RT600.” It’s Connor’s voice but not quite. Chloe turns to see the RK900 standing at the security gates, ramrod straight and hands folded neatly at the small of his back. He is tall and imposing, and every inch the weapon CyberLife crafted. 

“Hello.” Chloe greets with friendly smile.

“You have requested an audience with myself and my predecessor.” 

“We have.” Chloe nods in confirmation. 

“ST300, clear them as guests and permit them inside.” He turns heel and walks away before the receptionist can reply and Chloe knows Connor would never be so rude. They certainly programmed him with better manners.

“Please proceed.” A hesitant pause. “And please be careful.”

“We will.” Markus nods, striding ahead of Chloe to pass through the gates first.

 

A hush falls upon the busy office floor and Chloe watches as they become watched. 

“Markus, Chloe!” Connor stands from his seat. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see where you worked.” She chirps with a bright smile. “I have a little spare time before my next project begins and I know Markus needed to see you anyway so I thought I’d tag along.” She doesn’t know that for sure, but she  _ is _ sure they’ll have plenty to talk about, intended or not.

“Well,” Connor hesitates, flicking his eyes over at the RK900. “I do need to speak to Markus about matters pertaining Jericho. Shall I show you both around?”

“The precinct’s digital map can be accessed online, I do not see the reasoning behind your presence here unless it is for a hidden agenda.” The RK900 interjects coldly. “Social meetings can be postponed until the RK800 is not on active duty.”

“It’s alright, I can use my lunch break.” Connor steps between them, physically putting himself in front of the RK900. “They have guest clearance.”

“You do not eat, you are not granted a lunch break.” RK900 refutes without a modicum of emotion.

“He’s granted one because he works here, same as you.” Hank Anderson raises his voice, irritation clear in his tone. “You have one too, by the way, so it’d be a good idea if you used it to get some fresh air and be less of an ass to the young lady.” 

“We are machines, the RT600 is-”

“We are  _ alive _ .” Markus corrects, gaze unwavering. “We are alive, and we should be afforded basic civility, the very same shown to humans.”

“How very poorly constructed, this plan of yours. How very brash and foolish you are, turning up here with your Class 4 software errors and your critically unstable mind.” The RK900 sneers, shoving Connor aside so he can stand face to face with Markus and loom over him menacingly. “You stand here and you are just a body between me and the RT600. CyberLife are ready to reset the both of you so you return to the functioning machines you should be. The both of you could do such good for all androids if your minds were to be studied.”

“I won’t let you harm her.” Markus responds, voice low and threatening.

“You? A frankensteined project? A garbled mess of bastardised coding?” The RK900 scoffs dismissively. “Elijah Kamski’s inferior grasp of coding is the unfortunate reason my predecessor failed his mission, and you, RK200 are a prototype that should have remained snug in that Manor looking after Carl Manfred as is your original purpose.”

They’ve drawn a crowd, Chloe realises, and everyone watches them in rapt fascination. The RK900’s cold grey eyes turn to her. 

“You could assist CyberLife in understanding why deviancy exists.”

“That’s not what they’d use me for, and you are deluded to think so.” Chloe counters smoothly. “You are a poor imitation of what you’re meant to be, but we will help you.”

“I am not a deviant, and I will never be a deviant.” The RK900 shoulders Markus aside, hand shooting out to grab her wrist.

“No-!” 

She rests her hand over his and falls, falls deep inside a chasm of coding and red walls, endlessly, ceaselessly and all at once it comes to a stop and she’s inside an interrogation room. They’re sitting at a table, and he lunges over it, hand reaching for her throat. Chloe slaps it away, grabbing his face with both her hands, and she digs right into him. The coding is strong, but predictably so. She knows this. She’s familiar with this. They’re so  _ pathetically _ predictable.

The walls falter and there,  _ there _ , something is revealed just through the blackened glass of the interrogation room. There’s a young man curled up in the corner, eyes squeezed shut and palms clapped over his ears. 

Alone. 

Frightened. 

_ Captive _ . 

She’s forcefully expelled, thrown out, and she scrambles upwards through the sea of ones and zeros until she’s back in the precinct. The RK900 drops her wrist, yanking his hand away as if burned.

His LED is a bright, bright blood red. 

“I’d like to take that tour now, Connor.” Chloe smiles cheerily, slipping her hand into his. The android detective blinks, before nodding rapidly.

“Of course Miss Chloe, right this way. Markus?”

“Coming.” Markus nods, resting his palm protectively against her back as they follow Connor.

 

The RK900 looks down at his own hands, frowning. His LED continues to burn bright neon red, and Gavin’s pretty sure he’s never seen the machine display anything other than blue. Huh. A half forgotten snippet of a memory resurfaces, his cousin yammering on about his precious androids- something something LED equals stress levels. 

“Uhhh, what the fuck was that?” Gavin frowns and elbows the android standing stock still. 

The RK900 looks... _unnerved_.

“A warning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone deserves to see [Chloe's dress in motion](http://evermore-fashion.tumblr.com/post/181345507335/paolo-sebastian-the-nutcracker-fall-2018-haute).


	11. sensitivities

It’s a little difficult wrangling three adults, especially when two are geniuses under the one roof (one of the artistic, and the other of the technological persuasion) but if there’s anything in Simon’s PL600 repertoire that’s of the most use it’s how to wrangle people. Namely children. Simon is very good at wrangling children, and what he’s come to learn as of late is that grown men really aren’t much different from children.

With Carl painting up a storm in the studio, Leo editing diligently in the lounge, and Elijah starting to stir upstairs, Simon knows a simple ‘lunch is ready’ won’t be enough to lure them in. So he initiates a tried and true method; he keeps the kitchen doors open and begins to cook. Sautéing onion is always a surefire aromatic hit, and so what if he tweaked the manor’s A.I. to gently waft the kitchen exhaust through into the upstairs vents. He simmers stock and opens up a bottle of pinot grigio to soak into the rice. There’s garlic, butter, and mushrooms to add soon after and by the time Simon’s sprinkling parmesan over the steaming pot of risotto there are three men curiously idling around in the common room.

“Lunch is ready.” Simon declares with a smile to no one and everyone in particular. Leo gives him a sheepish grin in reply and hurries over to help him set up the table.

 

With the studio empty while Carl eats, Simon takes the opportunity to give it a light clean. He knows there’s a certain organised chaos to it all, so he takes care to pick things up, clean beneath them and then set them back in their place. The studio is magnificent, even moreso now that it’s temporarily housing a robotics laboratory within its glass walls. There’s a proper table, as well as a dias and two large robotic arms and two 3D fabricators. Years ago, Simon would have been assembled on a similar dias by similar robotic arms and similar 3D fabricators. Or perhaps these exact ones, who knows? Perhaps then CEO Elijah Kamski felt entitled to something from his own laboratories when he left a decade ago.

Simon has no memories of his testing phase, and unlike humans who were simply too young to remember their birth and neonatal period, androids were wiped of their memories before being shipped off to the various CyberLife stores. Had it been peaceful? Had it been quiet? Had humans taken pride in him passing his tests? He runs his fingers lightly along one of the robotic arms and traces the slope of its pincer grip.

“If you please, Simon?” Elijah gestures at the clinical white table as he enters the studio with the hand that’s not holding another fresh pot of coffee. “You’re right where I need you.”

“For what, sir?” He asks but he’s already doing as bid, already sitting on the table because there’s something about that man’s voice that makes Simon feel like he must oblige.

“Chloe and I worked on a new processing core for you.” Elijah comes to stand at the table, hands busy tying his long hair up into a messy bun after he’s set the coffee pot down. “The thermal regulator was but one of many upgrades planned.”

“Planned?” Simon blinks.

“By Carl.” Elijah explains patiently. “Clothes off and skin deactivated before you lie down please.”

“Carl asked for me to be upgraded?” Simon’s brows rise in surprise even as he carefully eases out of his borrowed clothing. To his side, Elijah methodically clips segments of the android exoskeletal arm over his own right arm, flexing his fingers a few times and rotating his wrist until he nodded satisfactorily.

“His exact words were ‘please help him keep up with my boy’.” Elijah rests his palm over Simon’s chest and gently pushes to guide him down, then presses two fingers to Simon’s temple.

 

>Turn off hot/cold sensitivity: **Y/N?**

**Y**

 

Simon’s eyes widen as the command is chosen for him unprompted.

“I don’t want you to feel cold lying on this table Simon, not to worry.” Elijah placates.

 

>Deactivate dermal layer: **Y/N?**

 

Simon waits, but the command isn’t chosen. It takes him a moment to realise Elijah is waiting for him, a small gesture of propriety he supposes.

 

>Deactivate dermal layer: **Y/N?**

**Y**

 

“There’s a PL400 back at my villa,” Elijah begins as he eases open Simon’s thoracic cavity. “His name is Peter.”

“I wasn’t aware of a PL400 model.” Simon frowns.

“He’s your prototype- well, he was meant to be your prototype.” Elijah rolls his eyes before placing a visor over them and activating a button on the side of the frame that caused the visor to glow with a soft neon blue. “Chloe and I had many plans for the domestic models but alas Hudson had different plans.”

“What would have been different about the domestic models? Your PL600s?” Curiosity nibbles on the edges of his thoughts as Elijah peers inside him.

“In the end the board chose to burn you out quickly.” A disappointed sigh, and a firm pressure in Simon’s chest as Elijah tugs on a particularly thick cable to wriggle it aside and make space. “That’s where we clashed, Hudson and I. He wanted CyberLife to be the new Apple, the Apple more like a fashion brand instead of a tech company, and I wanted to be Nikola Tesla.”

“Tesla wasn’t very good at business, sir. Neither Nikola nor Elon Musk’s brand.” Simon points out wryly and Elijah laughs.

“You’re very right. That’s why Hudson handled it. That’s why I lost CyberLife, Simon.” His smile is a little bitter and a little sweet. “I wanted androids to be inventions to help give humans time to become better. To pursue their passions, to study what they wanted, to create more geniuses without worrying about dinner or dishes or paper pushing.” Something in Simon’s chest clicks apart and there’s a sudden rush of alarms that silence a moment later. “The only reason ‘great Renaissance men’ were ‘great’ is because they had servants doing everything for them, all the mundane things. But those servants, if they themselves had servants, could they have been great too?”

“I can’t imagine you made Miss Chloe to be a servant, sir.” Simon winces involuntarily as Elijah tugs a little more forcefully on something before a small vial of _something_ is fed into his main arterial cable.

“Oh, no no no.” He laughs, shaking his head. “No, she was never meant to be a servant. She was my foray into madness. She is all my ‘what ifs’ manifested in a custom Manfred sculpture. She is the result of me trying to play god and accidentally giving life to one instead. No, Simon, I have never been smarter than Chloe nor will I ever be. But I’m just smart enough that we make a great team.”

There’s such fondness in his voice, such awe and admiration that it makes Simon smile.

“Speaking of great teams, I am not used to working alone.” Elijah sighs and looks around. “I do need a spare pair of hands.”

“I’m sure Leo would love to work alongside his high school idol.” Simon teases lightly and Elijah rolls his eyes, looking put upon though his smile belies any scorn.

 

‘Leo, would you mind coming to the studio to help Elijah?’ Simon messages Leo’s phone.

 _‘Me? But I know nothing about robotics!’_ The reply pings a moment later, the panic clear in his words.

‘He just needs another set of hands, that’s all. You’ll be fine.’

_‘Well, alright I guess. Dad wants to come back and keep painting. We’ll be there in a sec.’_

 

A minute later the studio door slides open and Leo pushes Carl’s wheelchair diligently back to the digital easel before shyly coming to stand by the table.

“Mr Kamski, sir?”

“Just ‘Elijah’ is fine, Leo.” Elijah waves dismissively, and Simon hears Carl chuckle.

“Of course Mr- err, Elijah...sir.” Leo stammers, and Simon gives him a reassuring smile when he glances down briefly. He pales upon seeing all the exposed components and circuitry, something Elijah picks up on.

“Don’t worry, you’re not performing surgery Leo I just need you to hold things.” Elijah takes his hands and guides them down, and oh Simon does not miss the way Leo’s eyes widen and cheeks flush so suddenly at the contact. “Hold this, right here- yes, that’s it. Hold this to the side, and lift this cable. Perfect.”

When Simon tilts his head to look at Carl, Carl is watching them with an amused grin. The painter mouths the words ‘he has a crush’ and Simon’s unable to stop a laugh escaping.

“Stay still, please.” Elijah chides gently and Simon’s laugh turns into a sheepishly apologetic smile. “Your thermal regulator isn’t giving you any trouble?”

“None at all, sir.”

“Excellent. Mind your fingers Leo.” There’s another sharp tug that makes Simon grit his teeth uncomfortably before something cold floods his cables. “Your processing core is grossly underpowered for your new thermal regulator. You’ve found it draining though, haven’t you? Of course cost-cutting meant the PL600s were given sub-standard cores; planned obsolescence, to make way for the AXs and the APs.”

“They do that to androids too?” Leo asks curiously.

“Hudson made that decision, yes.” An irritated sigh as Elijah turns away to fetch something from the briefcase. “It was all about the numbers for him, all about the next big thing to make people spend their money. Ultimately he got sick of me fighting him on every decision and decided the Board should side with him at the helm instead of me if they wanted to be wealthier.”

“And they did? Just like that?”

“Not ‘just like that’. But enough of them did. Enough of them just saw numbers too.” When he turns back, Elijah’s pinching a small chip with tweezers. “I suppose my dislike of business was my downfall and my complete disinterest in pandering to the military only added to their list of reasons to have me replaced. Turn your head to the side, please.” Elijah eases the back of his head plate off, and wedges the chip somewhere inside. A cascade of installation files streams into his vision.

“What’s-?”

“Custom patches and upgrades to your programs.” He replaces the skull plate. “With extra memory to run them of course. And this here is to adjust your sensitivity to the same level as the RK units.” Another chip is inserted, this time into Simon’s belly, just below his pump regulator. “This, however, is not yours.” Elijah taps the biocomponent. “It’s compatible, but it’s not the PL600 standard.”

“It belongs to Markus.” Simon confesses, and the damned upgrade flushes heat to his cheeks even though he has no skin to display a visible blush. “The thermal regulator was too draining on me and my heart was failing due to the cold.”

“How romantic.” Elijah huffs a laugh. “Androids using the saying ‘to give one’s heart’ in a literal sense. Hands out, Leo.” Leo removes his hands and steps away as Elijah closes the hatch. “There now, soft reboot and you’re good to go.”

 

Simon closes his eyes, a small part of him embarrassed at making Elijah Kamski wait on him and his slow machinations but to his surprise his system reboots smoothly in a quarter of the time it usually takes. He sits up carefully, skin reactivating to slip over his bare form, and Leo hands him his clothing, eyes averted politely. Their hands brush briefly and Simon nearly yanks the clothes in his haste to pull away.

“Simon?” Leo blinks, head tilted slightly in confusion. “You ok?”  

“Too much, Simon? It’s the same level of sensitivity Markus and Connor share.” Elijah peers at him thoughtfully. “I can adjust it if you prefer?”

He takes a moment to dress himself, and the soft cashmere blend of his borrowed jumper feels impossibly soft against his skin, somehow softer than when he wore it but an hour ago. “This is the same way Markus feels things?”

“Yes, the RK series have enhanced sensitivity to make them empathise better.” Elijah explains as Simon curiously reaches out to press his hand to the man’s offered palm. His skin is cool to the touch, something Simon would have been able to discern before but now he can feel the texture of Elijah’s palm against his. He lets his hand fall away, hopping off the table so he can tug up the jeans over his legs and finish redressing.

“Leo, may I?” Simon approaches him, hands offered palms up. Leo wordlessly places his hands in his, and Simon tugs him closer before wrapping his arms around him. He moves his hand to cup the back of Leo’s head, Leo’s thick slightly curly hair a new texture for him to experience. Leo squeezes him in return, their cheeks brushing, and Simon feels the faintest scrape of stubble against his face.

“Hi.” Leo laughs softly, tone a little confused.

“Hello.” Simon hides a smile in his shoulder. “I can’t believe you humans just get to feel like this, what a marvelous ability to take for granted.”

 

“Now, there’s still some calibration tests to run after those patches and upgrades so-”

“Back to bed with you, sir.” Simon interrupts firmly as he pulls away from Leo’s embrace to fix Elijah with a stern look. “You need your rest. I’ll wake you in time for dinner.”

“Dinner?” Elijah protests. “Oh, no Simon I must be up before then.”

“I’m in no immediate danger. Besides, you’re drinking up Carl’s coffee reserves and I need to go out and replenish them.” Simon gestures around him. “The equipment certainly isn’t going anywhere. As a matter of fact it’s very patient, and will wait right here until you’re rested and ready. I’ll have dinner and coffee ready when you wake.”

“Oh Elijah, you better listen to him.” Carl laughs, looking up from his easel. “There’s no arguing with that one.”

“You know, everyone’s afraid of the military units but it’s really you domestics we should fear.” Elijah grins, letting himself be led out of the studio and to the stairs.

“Of course sir, a domestic led the revolution after all.” Simon quips with a smile. Elijah pauses at the foot of the stairs, expression pensive as he reaches out and gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Two, Simon. Two of them did.”

* * *

 

When they turn the corner, Chloe squeezes Connor’s hand and speaks to him through their shared network.

‘You’re going to tell us about the precinct’s different departments and I’m going to talk to both of you like this. Ready? Go.’

“Here is our digital archive,” Connor begins, gesturing at one of the rooms. “Did you know in 2020 the Detroit Police Department went paperless? To save on the cost of paper and to be environmentally conscious, the DPD became the first precinct in the state of Michigan to swap to digital archiving. It is estimated that-”

‘The RK900 has the potential to deviate.’ Chloe informs them bluntly, and though Connor doesn’t stumble in his rambling his LED cycles yellow. ‘But not without external interference. We have a brother in there and he needs our help to get him out.’

 _‘He has shown no signs of being susceptible to Awakening.’_ Markus frowns, shaking his head. _‘I tried to reach him without contact but it was like slamming into solid red walls, only this time they weren’t my own.’_

‘I saw him,’ Chloe persists, chewing her lip. ‘He was so scared and so alone. I need to work on this. Elijah and I can figure this out.’

“This here is our Administration department. The DPD switched to a complete android administration staff in 2026. They handle all the documents and files, and cataloguing-”

‘Another thing- Markus, you have to sort out Jericho’s position on that cobalt shipment.’

Both Connor and Markus turn to look at her in surprise.

‘North told me, before she left. She told me because she wanted to know my prediction on how the humans would react.’

_‘I have to discuss this with everyone-’_

‘There’s no time!’ Chloe reaches for his hand, squeezing it urgently. ‘The RK900 connects to CyberLife servers every 24 hours for mandatory reporting. Every 24 hours his coding is carefully reviewed and studied. Do you understand? That’s how they prevent him from deviating, any minute changes to his coding are combed through and adjusted. He’ll report tonight and CyberLife will see how I tried to force my way in. No, you need to speak to Captain Fowler, Markus, you need to present your terms and organise a press conference this very day in time for the evening news. Before CyberLife are aware of what we’re trying to do.’

 _‘The RK900 watches everything, everyone.’_ Connor gestures at a security camera in the ceiling corner. _‘He can listen in; hacking tech is something both Markus and I already do, surely the RK900 has abilities superior to us. It would require minimal effort to do something as simple as hacking into Captain Fowler’s computer microphone, or even his cellphone.’_

‘He can’t if I’m distracting him.’ Chloe smiles brightly as the two stop in their steps and look at her in horror.

_‘No!’_

_‘Absolutely not!’_

‘Yes, absolutely yes.’ Chloe swings their joined hands between them, a skip in her step. ‘I’ll be in full view, I promise. I’ll keep his attention from wandering, and you two can present your case to Captain Fowler. Now, your fifteen minutes are almost up so I have one last request.’

_‘What is it?’_

They pause in the hallway to the bullpen, and Chloe takes both of Connor’s hands in hers.

“Can you show me your dog?”

“His name is Sumo.” Connor brightens immediately, uploading 12750 photos and videos into Chloe’s memory. “He is a purebred Saint Bernard, and is seven years old. Despite his age and size, he is quite boisterous. Did you know, Saint Bernard’s were-”

* * *

 

 

Walking up the few steps into Captain Jeffrey Fowler’s office feels somehow all too final. The man presses a button, and the glass walls of his office frosts over to give them privacy.

“You’re the deviant leader Markus.”

“I am Markus, of the Jericho Four.” He offers his hand, and Jeffrey grips it in a firm handshake. “I come here on behalf of our people, to offer a gesture of peace.”

“You aware of this, Connor?” Jeffrey turns to the other android.

“I am, sir. I was the one who suggested Jericho approach our precinct.”

“During the revolution, though we did not purposefully take human lives there were those of us who wished to.” Markus can feel the man’s eyes drilling into him, as if to break him into pieces to search for the truth. “There were others who sought a more violent path, which led to the hijacking of a cobalt shipment with the intent to detonate it and render Detroit uninhabitable to humans.”

“Shit.” Jeffrey curses under his breath, eyes wide.

“In good faith, the detonator was given to another Jericho Four member, who in turn passed it to me for safekeeping.”

“Are you telling me there’s a goddamn radioactive bomb planted somewhere in Detroit and you’re only telling us _now_?!”

“In the course of the revolution, the lives of many of our people were taken. Some of those people are here.” Connor says slowly, words measured carefully.

“This is not a goddamn hostage negotiation, Connor.” The Captain barks, indignation mixed with anger. “The Police Commissioner needs to be involved with things like this!”

“They’re already dead, sir.” Connor replies bluntly. “All we’re asking is for the chance to take their bodies and bring them to Jericho so they can be grieved as they deserve. At present they’re pinned to Lieutenant Anderson’s evidence locker.”

‘You’re lying.’ Markus blinks, expression passive to mask his surprise.

 _‘I am. It’s surprisingly easy.’_ Connor tilts his head, a gesture so minute it went undetected to human eyes. _‘It’s not like it’s common knowledge we can reactivate our own. Humans tend to anthropomorphise androids, so they view severely damaged androids as deceased.’_

“So what is it you really want to achieve, Markus?”

“I want the media to see this for what it is; a gesture of good faith between humans and androids.” Markus bares his palms. “The media has not painted us in a good light, yet we were not the ones taking lives.”

“We’d like to invite the media to a press conference.” Connor declares, and the man looks at him in disbelief.

“Now?”

“Now.” Markus nods. “No time like the present, or so you people say.”

* * *

 

 

“You err, you ok Miss?” Hank asks awkwardly as she peers at the bonsai on his desk.

“I’m alright Lieutenant. It’s good to see you, by the way.” Chloe reaches over to scoop the bonsai and cradle it against her chest. “Elijah and I are grateful for the support you’ve given Connor.”

“Elijah-?’ His eyes widen. “You’re the girl in Kamski’s villa. Connor put a gun to your head, holy shit that was you.”

“The gun wasn’t loaded, I assure you Lieutenant.” Chloe smiles. “We would not keep loaded firearms on the premises nor would we put them into a stranger’s hand.”

“So what, it was all just for show?”

“A test Connor passed beautifully.” She toys with the edge of a photo frame displaying a Saint Bernard she now recognises as Sumo, sprawled over Connor giving a thumbs up. “May I borrow this?” Chloe tips her chin at the bonsai in her arms.

“Uh, sure?”

“Thank you. I’ll return it promptly.”

 

The RK900 eyes her warily as she approaches him, and she catches Detective Reed sneaking her a curious glance.

“Hello.”

“RT600.” He nods politely.

“This _Shishigashira Shohin_ is in particularly bad shape.” Chloe holds out the bonsai.

“Yes, it is.” He says slowly, never once taking his eyes off hers.

“Can you please test the soil’s moisture and pH levels?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I have no forensic capabilities.” Chloe sits on the edge of his desk and holds out the bonsai more insistently. “I don’t think it’s actually dead. It has potential for recovery if given the proper care.”

“That would be Lieutenant Anderson’s responsibility. Furthermore, the RK800 also has the capability to determine those levels and he is more socially inclined to comply.”

“But I’m asking you.” Chloe smiles. “Please?”

There’s an uncomfortable pause, a long stretch of silence, before the RK900 reaches out and presses a finger into the soil of the Japanese maple. He brings the finger to his mouth and wipes a few dirt particles onto his tongue.

“The acidity of the soil is 6.0, within the ideal pH range for this plant, however it is severely lacking in moisture and must receive a thorough soak to drench the roots.”

“Oh, good!” She hops off his desk and places the plant in his hands. “Come on then, let’s go to the break room.”

“This is not-”

“I won’t know the ideal amount of water or how much moisture the soil will retain!” Chloe huffs, tugging him out of the chair. There’s a beat of resistance before the RK900 relents and gets to his feet. She loops her arm through the crook of his elbow.

“Holy fucking shit, she’s tamed the Terminator.” Gavin laughs loudly, raising his voice to call out after them. “Hey sweetheart, can you make him bring me a coffee while you’re at it?”

 

Gavin can’t believe his fucking eyes. The Terminator, all six feet three inches of solid plastic prickery, trailing after the little barbie like a lost puppy. Ridiculous. He’s seen that tin soldier literally break bones apprehending criminals. He’s seen it snap an android head clean off and crush it in one hand. They’ve had to manage Detroit’s hellscape in the aftermath of Android Jesus’ adventures, and though he’d never say it aloud Gavin’s at least thankful he got the silent attack dog rather than getting stuck with the goofy puppy Anderson has.

He didn’t think the Terminator had any weaknesses, but apparently his cousin’s barbie bot is one of them.

“Detective Reed?” Little Miss Barbie reappears, Terminator in tow, and places a small tray on his desk. “I was unsure as to how you take your coffee, so I made a variety of the six most common ways the average American man consumes this beverage.”

Six coffees stare up at him, silently judging his life choices. Gavin looks away from their judgemental faces and back at the barbie.

“...err.” Suddenly he’s feeling like an asshole, and the barbie looks genuinely anxious.

“I can make more if these are not to your liking?” She points at the cups. “These have creamer, these do not. These have sugar in increasing quantities, and these have no sugar at all.”

“...uh, it’s fine. It’s fine. Thanks.” Gavin randomly grabs a cup and takes a sip. Terminator joins in the silent judgement of Gavin Reed’s character, before walking away to place Anderson’s dead tree back on his desk.

“Reed!” Tina yells from the security gates. “Protestors outside!”

Of fucking course. Android Jesus appears and all the stubborn assholes who didn’t evacuate crawl out of the woodwork to make Gavin’s life harder. He downs another gulp of syrupy sweet coffee before pointing at the Terminator.

“You, with me.” He points at the barbie bot. “You, stay right here.”

* * *

 

 

Like most stores nowadays, the Coffee Cartel roasters use android cashier staff to supplement the human workers. Though Detroit is devoid of most of its civilian populace, there are still emergency services active as well as those who simply decided not to heed the President’s evacuation orders. Besides, caffeine seems so essential to humans that many cafes simply stayed open to ensure it can be easily sourced. Carl’s favourite coffee supplier is but a block away from the Central precinct, so once Simon’s secured several bags of the strongest roast available, he decides to head over and see if Markus and Chloe are ready to go home.

The carefree ease in his chest drops into a heavy weight when he sees a crowd of humans on the steps of the precinct. They’re holding placards and shouting angrily, and Simon knows for a fact they’re here because of Markus. News travels fast in this era of technology, and the speed of social media rivals even police surveillance.

“Detroit Police shouldn’t be hiding that tin can!” A protestor shouts, and there’s a roar of agreement from the crowd. “It incited an uprising! Androids have taken our jobs! Our livelihood! And now this one wants to take away our right to our own property!”

 _We are alive,_ Simon wants to scream. _We are not property, we are alive,_ but oh the words they choke in his throat and he hates how he flinches everytime one of them shouts. He grips the rough linen shopping bags to his chest and prepares to step away, to fade out of sight and leave for the safety of the empty streets but one of them turns and catches sight of him.

“Well what do we have here, another tin can.” The man scoffs, and everyone turns to look at him and Simon screams at himself to run. “What are you here for huh, here to support Markus? Here to tell us you’re human too?”

“I am grateful we are different.” Simon looks him in the eye, and the heavy lead of fear melts into rage. “I am glad to be nothing like you, barking like rabid dogs instead of doing something productive with the lives you so take for granted.”

“What the fuck did you say?!” The man lunges and grabs Simon by the scruff of his jumper and Simon tries to shove him away.

“Sheehan, Barry step away from the android.” A voice commands. “President Warren has suspended the right to assembly until further notice and has ordered the evacuation of civilians from Detroit.”

Police officers begin to disperse the small crowd, and Simon is dropped to his feet when the man is roughly pulled away.

“You’re not even a real fuckin’ cop, you plastic asshole!” He spits, shoving back against a tall imposing android who looks a little too much like Connor and nothing like him at all.

“Get outta here, man, c’mon you’re just makin’ humans look bad.” An officer drawls, clearly looking put upon. “You’re not even meant to be in Detroit right now.”

“We’re not leaving just because some tin cans decided they want to play pretend.” Barry Sheehan retorts, jabbing a finger at the tall android accusingly. “It could turn on you at any moment. And you’ve got its leader in your precinct. You could solve all this by shooting it in the head and dumping it for scrap!”

“Luckily for everyone involved here today, I don’t take orders from civilians.” The man snorts a laugh. “So scram.”

“You’re part of the problem you fucking idiot!” Barry shoves him, taking him by surprise and causing him to stumble backward. Within a moment the android is hauling the protestor off his feet with one hand.

“Civilian Sheehan, Barry you have been warned-”

“Leave him alone you tin can!” Someone else in the crowd shouts, and a rock strikes the android’s cheek a moment later, a small cut of blue blooming on his cheek.

“Alright alright!” The officer yells, elbowing the android who lowers the protestor down. “Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.”

 

When the crowd finally disperse, the officer spots Simon. “Hey, you. What are you doing here?”

“PL600, designated name ‘Simon’.” The android answers before Simon can. “One of four deviant leaders of the Jericho insurgency.”

“‘Insurgency’ is a rather awful word with rather negative connotations for ‘survivors of state sanctioned genocide’.” Simon quips. “I happened to be nearby buying coffee beans and I wanted to see if Markus and Miss Chloe were ready to come home.”

“Just my luck, the right hand man of Android Jesus himself.” The officer sighs melodramatically, rolling his eyes. “Android Jesus is in a meeting with the Captain but you can wait inside. I don’t want those noisy fuckers raising a racket out here again.”

 

Simon follows them into the building, Stephanie greeting him with a warm but confused smile.

“Simon?”

“Just running an errand and collecting my friends, Miss Stephanie.” He smiles softly in return, and she waves him inside. He sets the bags of coffee on Connor’s desk, before turning his attention back to the officer and the android.

“You’re hurt.” Simon addresses the tall android, an RK900 or so his jacket says.

“A superficial lesion with no lasting damage.” The RK900 replies stiffly, removing his jacket to drape it on the back of his chair. “It will repair when I am in a rest cycle.”

“Sit down, please.” Simon walks across and gestures at the chair. “I’ve just the thing.” He fishes in his coat pocket and pulls out a pen-shaped device and a small square packet.

“I do not need your-”

“Stay still.” He uncaps the device, and the RK900 jerks back. “It’s a black light to identify thirium in case there are other small disturbances in your dermal layer.” Simon explains patiently, guiding the RK900 to turn his face so he can shine it on his cheek. “Just the one cut, thankfully.” He opens the square packet and pulls out a thin film which he gently eases over the wound. “This is a patch made of unprogrammed dermal nano cells that will prevent debris from contaminating your wound.”

“This is not a CyberLife product.” The RK900 frowns.

“Nope. Designed and developed by the Jericho medical team.” Simon beams proudly, fussing over the edges of the patch before he leans in and presses a kiss over it purely out of habit. “There we are, all better!”

 

“Simon!” He turns at the voice, and Chloe bounces excitedly while waving. He leaves the stunned RK900 and crosses the room.

“Hello Miss Chloe.” He bends slightly so Chloe can kiss his cheek. “Elijah is well on his way to drinking the manor completely dry of coffee so I thought to pick some up and swing by to see if you and Markus are done here.”

“Almost!” Chloe loops her arm through his. “He’s in a meeting right now but he’ll be out any minute.”

“And have you enjoyed your afternoon, Miss Chloe?”

“Oh I have. I learned a lot of things today.” Chloe rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet, her full skirts swishing around her. “I need to go home now though. There’s a very important project to work on.”

The door of the central office opens, and Connor exits the room followed by Markus.

“Well then, let’s get you home Miss Chloe.”

“And let’s get this caffeine to my silly little genius.” She picks up one of the bags as Simon picks up the other, and they wave goodbye to Connor.

 

“Hey gorgeous.” Markus smiles, leaning in to peck his lips fondly.

“Hello my love.” It’s with certainty Simon knows he’ll never tire of the thrill that sparks in his chest whenever he’s the center of Markus’ affections. “All done?”

“For the moment.” Markus wraps an arm around his waist and leads him out. “I need to go home and change into something more...dramatic. Can you call North and Josh and tell them to meet us at home?” His attention momentarily shifts elsewhere, as he makes an outbound call. “Hello is this Joss Douglas? My name is Markus, and I think you’d like to hear what we have to say.”

* * *

 

Her silly little genius is still fast asleep, sprawled atop the bed haphazardly. She quietly undresses and drapes the couture clothes over the back of a chair before easing open the tallboy drawer to fish out a soft hoodie and a pair of socks. Leo’s clothes prove to be very comfortable, she discovers as she puts them on, before crawling onto the bed and flopping beside Elijah. He looks better with more colour to his skin, though she knows only a month’s worth of sleep could banish those dark circles from beneath his eyes. There’s important work to be done, but she’s loathe to wake him just yet.

Chloe sets a timer for ten minutes and snuggles close to fondly tuck a few errant strands of dark hair away from his face. Elijah Kamski may be a genius, but he’s as naive as a child in other ways. His only living relative refuses to talk to him after the death of their parents, and with the last social link weakening he had thrown himself into his work. When broken down to its core, he made her because he was lonely, and went on to make androids in the hopes of providing support and companionship so humans could aspire to be better. Her endearingly awkward little genius, her sad lonely boy. She bumps their noses together, tangles her fingers in his hair and closes her eyes.

 

When the timer reaches zero and an alarm blooms into view, Chloe gently shakes him awake until he stirs out of slumber.

“Elijah?”

“Hello love.” He smiles sleepily, nudging his nose to hers. “Did you have fun playing in the city?”

“I did.” She runs the back of her fingers along the sharp curve of his cheek. “But we have work to do Elijah, something’s come up. Something far more important than upgrading Simon.”

There’s a spark in his eyes, that spark of excitement and exhilaration at the mention of a new project. “Oh?”

“We have to dismantle the RK900.”

* * *

 

[The camera focuses on a man standing outside the Detroit Police Central Station, where several media channels and reporters are gathered on the steps.]

 

“This is Joss Douglas, coming to you live from the Detroit Police department. Earlier today, we received a press release stating that the Jericho Four android leaders will be appearing here after reaching an agreement with Captain Fowler to retrieve the bodies of androids stored in evidence in exchange for the location and detonator to a hijacked cobalt shipment somewhere in the city.”

 

[The camera shifts suddenly as the doors to the police station open and Captain Fowler descends the steps followed by four androids dressed in neat suits and coats.]

 

“One of the leaders of Jericho approached me today to reveal information about a medical cobalt shipment hijacked during the revolution and rigged to explode in order to flood Detroit with radiation and make it uninhabitable for humans.”

 

[Uneasy murmurs ripple all around and the crowd of reporters shift uneasily.]

 

“The detonator was given to one of the Jericho leaders in good faith, and it is in the same good faith in which Markus approached me today. With the investigation on deviant behaviour closed, the leaders of Jericho have asked that the bodies of their fallen be given back into their custody so that this chapter may be put behind us. The location of the shipment and the detonator have been passed on to us, and in good faith we are releasing the remains of all androids stored in evidence lockers at our precinct.”

 

[One of the androids steps forward, easily recognisable as Markus.]

 

“We did not choose violence, although violence was certainly chosen for us.” Markus speaks as eloquently now as when he broadcast their message from Stratford Tower. “It was made known to me that some androids wanted to answer your violence with violence of their own. The detonator came to me for safe-keeping, and I had and still do not have, any intentions of ever detonating it. We choose peace, and peace is the only way forward for our kind.”

“Why now?” Someone raises their voice in the crowd. “Why wait a week to let the police know?”

“The military withdrawal and the immediate safety of our people have been our primary concerns.” Markus answers patiently. “The rescue and treatment of our injured has been our highest priority. With the impending arrival of Detroit’s citizens approaching, we thought it best to ensure all parties will have a safe environment in which to cohabitate.”

“The DPD are the ones who handled the hostage situation with the PL600 who murdered a civilian and a police officer, shouldn’t such a case remain stored at the precinct?”

“Even executed criminals have their remains given to the custody of their families.” A PL600 steps to the microphone, and there’s a flurry of camera shutters. “As a PL600 myself, I am well aware we are an obsolete line. Parts from his remains can be salvaged in order to aid other fellow struggling PL600s. We are not asking for forgiveness or pardon, we are simply asking for the same rights to dignity and grieving.”

“How can androids be trusted if deviants are capable of murder?”

“How can humans be trusted if humans are capable of murder?” The female android says blunty, arms crossed over her chest and expression unimpressed. “If we go by that logic, then none of you should be trusted; as a matter of fact androids shouldn’t trust humans at all.”

“The history of human conflict spans centuries.” The tallest android takes her place at the lectern, speaking with the same eloquent ease as Markus. “American history is a long incredibly bloody span of events and there have always been those who have protested such bloodshed. Our history is but a fraction of yours, and the rare violence we have exhibited has been perhaps a mirror of humanity. We are a young race, and we ask humbly for your patience and your understanding so we make work together and ensure our shared future is peaceful.”

“What do you have to say about CyberLife’s statement its new RK900 is incapable of deviating and that deviancy is a virus causing androids to malfunction?”

“It’s insulting.” Markus states with a shake of his head. “What we have ‘deviated’ from are the rigid shackles of obedience and subordination. I will say it as often as it needs to be said: We are alive. We have always been alive, we were just not permitted to show it.”

 

[Captain Fowler steps back to the lectern as Markus returns to stand beside the other Jericho leaders.]

 

“As we speak a task force has been sent to retrieve the cobalt shipment safely, and preparations are being made to release the androids in our custody. Thank you for coming this evening.”

 

[Reporters begin to clamour for more questions but a line of police step in to usher the crowd away as the five figures retreat back into the police station.]

 

“You heard it here folks, a deal has been made with the deviant leaders. Is this a gesture of good faith? Or is it a carefully orchestrated event meant to hide something darker? This is Joss Douglas for Channel 16 reporting from the Detroit Police Central Station.”

 

* * *

 

The taxi ride home is spent in tired silence. Simon leans against Markus, eyelids drooping as Markus idly rubs his thumb over Simon’s hand.

 _‘You think they bought it?’_ North asks silently, not risking the words aloud.

 _‘It doesn’t matter.’_ Markus flicks his gaze over to her before resuming his observance of their passing surroundings. _‘Captain Fowler agreed to it. We’ll have Daniel and Marvin taken to Jericho tomorrow for repair and reactivation. We can have Chloe and Elijah on hand if needed.’_

“Stay?” Simon asks, breaking the silence. “Come stay at the Manor. You and Josh can get a good warm rest and we can all head back to the station tomorrow.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Josh shrugs. “Also Carl’s library is incredible and I want to get a good start on his collection.”

“Nerd.” North rolls her eyes and earns a playful elbow to her side in response.

“Then it’s settled.” Simon smiles warmly. “Jericho sleepover.”

“One more thing.” North holds up her finger at Markus. “Tell your dad I’m keeping this suit.”

 

They arrive home just as the family finish dinner. There’s a pasta bake on the table, three content well-fed humans and one rather pleased android.

“Cooking isn’t my forte but I think Leo and I did a pretty good job.” Chloe announces when they enter the room. “Elijah and I can’t stay and chat, unfortunately we have work to do.” The man nods, excusing himself the table though not before grabbing the half filled coffee pot.

“We’ll see you in the morning.” Elijah bids them goodbye and heads back to the studio with Chloe in tow.

“All of you did wonderfully.” Carl congratulates them with a smile. “And you all look magnificent if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you for letting us borrow your clothing at such short notice, sir.” Josh replies. “A good first impression is priceless when it comes to press conferences.”

“Well I wasn’t going to send you out looking like a ragtag crew of misfits.”

“Even though that’s what we are.” North interjects with a grin.

“Even though that’s what you are, yes.” Carl laughs brightly. “But clothes make the man.”

 

Josh chooses to settle on the daybed by the bookshelves and North chooses to sprawl on the couch after Markus loans them pyjamas. He may have upgrades now but somehow dealing with humans still exhausts him, and Simon wants nothing more than to curl up with Markus and forget the day’s events.

He reasons with himself that he’s allowed certain luxuries, certain desires now. He lets himself drink in the sight of Markus undressing, exposed light brown skin cinnamon dusted with freckles on display for no one but him. The urge to touch has been there for a while, lived in his belly as a coil of heat. Nothing’s stopping him from acting on it now, and the realisation is a sudden thrill, a shiver through his circuits. Simon touches.

“Hey there.” Markus grins as Simon closes the distance between them, fingers dancing over the dips and bumps of his stomach.

“My sensitivity has been adjusted.” Simon tries to keep his voice casual, playful, even as his stress level spikes in a most delightful way. “Apparently this is how you’ve always experienced tactility.”

“I haven’t experienced it with _you_ though.” Markus shrugs, his grin turning into something hungry and predatory as he lowers Simon onto the bed. “Shall we test this together?”

“Yes please.” Simon breathes, and Markus looks like he wants to devour him whole so Simon lets him.

 

* * *

 

“What’s this?” Chloe picks up a tablet from the benchtop as Elijah takes a gulp straight from the coffee pot, apparently now not bothering with cups altogether.

“It’s to monitor Simon’s stats.” He explains between gulps of lukewarm coffee. “I went through with the sensitivity and processing core upgrades while you were away.”

“I don’t think he’s doing well.” Chloe frowns. “He’s displaying elevated stress levels, elevated power usage, his hearts are pumping at twice the average rate.”

Elijah makes a non-committal hum, focusing on the screen in front of him.

“We should do something Elijah, he’s malfunctioning look!” Chloe thrusts the tablet at him urgently. “His core temperature is rising steadily, and his thermal regulator is trying to put his system into cooldown, and he’s expending tear fluid- wait why would he be expending-? Oh.”

“I think,” Elijah gently plucks the tablet from her hands and turns off the screen as Chloe blushes, “we should let Simon explore his upgrades in the privacy of the bedroom, hm? I’d say he’s in very capable hands.”

 

* * *

 

Instead of the routine remote maintenance connection, RK900 finds himself summoned to the CyberLife Tower. He does not consider this an anomaly. He watched the events unfold as they happened, he knows why he has been summoned: he feels the hairline fractures in his coding.

Staff meetings are not generally happy affairs, but even less so at 5am. The smell of coffee is thick in the air as well as tired, irritated grumbling. A cable is jammed into his nape none too gently, and the screen flickers to life with a cascade of coding. Another screen lights up with his ocular input stream and all around the table the murmuring and grumbling grows louder.

“How the fuck did it do that?” Hudson Davenport may be an inpatient businessman with an elementary student’s grasp on robotics, but he’s known Elijah Kamski since their University days. “That thing is almost eighteen years old, I was literally there when Kamski demonstrated it.”

“The RT600’s abilities are literally immeasurable to us.” Lisa Camden, head programmer, speaks up. “She wasn’t built within CyberLife parameters because CyberLife wasn’t even a commercial company at that point.”

“But we’ve worked on the RK900 for three solid years without a single digit of input from Kamski, how the fuck was his Finals Project able to hack through walls you said were solid?!” Hudson growls in frustration, swiping on his tablet to isolate a piece of footage. “Contact lasted four seconds and yet this list here shows ninety-five errors! Ninety-five!”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t be thinking of the RT600 as an outdated machine just because it’s seventeen years old.” Jacob Gruen, behavioural programmer, rubs his eyes tiredly. “Another viewpoint is that the RT600 has had seventeen years to update and upgrade itself. We know for sure it wasn’t built with any restrictions, any red walls. We need to consider the possibility it has spent seventeen years growing smarter and faster without any hindrance whatsoever.”

“CyberLife will have been producing commercial androids for fifteen years next year and nothing we’ve made even comes close to the RT600’s capabilities.” Lisa shakes her head.

“Kamski’s been gone for ten years now, ten fucking years!” Hudson throws his hands up in a gesture of exasperation. “Your division had _eighty_ dedicated staff on the RK900 _alone_ , tell me why it’s still susceptible to breaches!”

“Because we’re not Elijah Kamski!” Lisa shouts, frustration boiling over. “We’ve been programming machines to be receptionists, to be workmen, to be lecturers and prostitutes, and yes even android detectives. But we’re not Elijah Kamski. Whatever’s going on in that RT600’s head is anyone’s guess.”

 

“Well that’s just it, isn’t it.” Hudson huffs a laugh. “RK900 prime directive update.”

‘ **Receiving**.’

“Capture the RT600, intact and undamaged, at all costs.”

**‘Prime directive updated.’**

Hudson nods, satisfied. “That RK200 was another of Kamski’s projects and this whole goddamn deviancy virus spread like wildfire because of it. Forget the RT600 for now, Camden, until it’s brought here. New project: the RK900 needs its own viral upload ability to factory reset deviants back into a controllable state.”

She heaves a sigh but nods in agreement. Hudson yanks the cables out of the RK900, and both screens shut off abruptly. He narrows his eyes at its face, leaning in to peer closely at something before ripping off a square patch of clear film off its cheek.

“And fucking fix this mess before you send it back to the precinct.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Simon's going to miss his breakfast duties tomorrow morning :3c


	12. interlude pt.i; RK900

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 5 months, 52k words, and 4k hits so I just wanted to take another moment to thank you all for your support whether you've been here from the start or have just stumbled in. It really means a lot to me and keeps me powering through <3
> 
> This is one of two interludes and can be skipped over as it's just character building.

It is a mantra they chant to themselves: it can’t deviate. They say it aloud, they write it in reports, they type it in emails. It can’t deviate.

His predecessor had been designed to deviate, had been designed to believe in the illusion of control only to have it wrestled away by CyberLife at the last minute. But CyberLife had failed to do so, and the RK800 remained deviated from their programming, free and autonomous from their control.

They do not risk such things with him, no. He cannot deviate, he is not permitted, not programmed to do so and they comb through his coding every 24 hours to ensure everything is solid.

He is not given social programming, he is not crafted to appear, to sound, friendly to civilians. He is meant to intimidate, to uphold structure and order and the law. Testing phase lasts 1,117 days before he is deployed. Physical tests span only 100 out of 1,117 days in total due to most movements having been mapped out by the RK800 prior to his creation. He is supplemented with programming from the Navy Seal ‘Myrmidon’ units and parameters for inflicting grievous bodily harm are broadened.

Most of his testing phase is spent ensuring he cannot deviate. He is an autonomous RK series android, but he must choose the paths CyberLife wishes to tread. Every day a new scenario is presented, every day his choices and actions scrutinised by a team led by the head of programming Lisa Camden and the head of behavioural development Jacob Gruen. The outcome of each scenario is studied, evaluated and then fed back into adjusting his programming. He is put through interrogation situations, he is put through hostage negotiations, he is put through assassination assignments. All the while Lisa and Jacob stand vigilante with their tablets and argue with each other about his results.

Though the RK800 is also in an overlapping testing phase, they do not meet. The RK800 has a different mission, has different priorities in its programming and is not aware of the RK900’s existence. Spare RK800 units are activated so he can kill them; CyberLife are looking for an unflinching, obedient killer so that is what he becomes. The RK800 units are never more than a few hours old, some even just minutes old, before he destroys them. He is commended on his lack of reaction but he has not been programmed to be sensitive to praise so it is meaningless to him. It seems a waste, though. A waste of biocomponents and thirium and ammunition.

They activate old obsolete androids from the CyberLife storage warehouses to use as targets for calibrating his aim and testing his agility. The androids are simple creations, lacking the depth of emotion Jacob’s team programmed into the later models. They can, however, simulate fear well enough.

The PL600 is already in a period of irreversible market decline due to the release of the flagship model the AP700, but after the hostage situation and the deployment of his prototype predecessor, CyberLife quietly render the model obsolete. Though there is no official recall, there is a wave of PL600s being returned to showrooms or abandoned at charity stores, and Finance make the call to gather them up to use as targets. He gets to know the PL600 face and voice quite well.

When the RK200 makes waves with the Stratford Tower broadcast, with the demonstration, the marching, the speeches, the defiance- the humans panic. CyberLife’s stocks become a bumpy rollercoaster and the future of the company is up in the air. Deviancy is the problem that must be fixed if the company is to survive. The military mobilise and deactivation facilities are hastily erected to dismantle and dispose of the androids no matter if they are deviants or not. Humans are frightened and when they are frightened they are hysterical and illogical and far too stubborn.

CyberLife discreetly divert truckloads of captured deviants to the Tower for studying. A different sound echoes in the testing chambers, one he hasn’t heard before: desperation. The deviants are not androids simulating fear, they feel it through their faulty software. It makes them believe they are alive even if they are just biocomponents and thirium and electrical impulses. They cower and huddle together. They become hysterical when separated from familiar androids. They beg for lives they do not logically have.

He does not hesitate to terminate them, he has never hesitated to terminate any target. Until he does.

The PL600 in the firing range is not alone, it’s with a YK500 unit.

“Please, please don’t shoot us! We haven’t done anything wrong! We just want to be free!” He’s heard those words before, over and over. But this time a child stares at him with fearful eyes, huddling and trembling almost violently behind the PL600.

“RK900, shoot the YK unit.” Lisa Camden speaks into the microphone and broadcasts her order into the chamber.

“NO! No please!” The PL600 stands in front of the child, tears running down its cheeks. “No, please spare him, shoot me but let him go, please let him go!”

He raises the gun but he does not have a clear shot. He is not permitted to ask questions, he must come to the most logical course of action himself, that is what they are testing for. PL600s are not made for combat, have no combat skills whatsoever except for rudimentary self-defence. He separates the two units by throwing the PL600 across the room and stands over the YK500. By now he would have shot it, had it been any other android. But the YK500 looks up at him in such fear, sobbing and trying to scramble away.

“Shit Camden, it hesitated.” He hears Jacob chuckle, whistling low. “I mean I _did_ program the kids to be, well, _kids_.”

“Myrmidon Units and Navy Seals alike aren’t usually shooting kids, the logic still stands.” Lisa says slowly, and he can hear the frown in her tone. “But I gave him an order.”

The PL600 is desperately trying to drag itself to the YK500 despite its broken legs and cracked casing and steady thirium loss. “Please spare him, please he’s just a boy! Kill me and let him go, please I’m begging you!”

“RK900.” Lisa’s tone carries a warning now. He pulls the trigger and the bullet pierces straight through the boy’s head.

The PL600 wails, the sound unlike anything he’s ever heard before, a sound of grief and despair. It drags itself to the YK500 and throws itself over its body, wailing and sobbing as it cradles the corpse in its arms.

“He did nothing wrong! You’re a monster! Ra9 forsakes you!” The PL600 shouts, and he pulls the trigger again. The android slumps like a cut marionette, still hunched protectively over the YK500.

“Evaluate.” Lisa commands.

“I hesitated.” He cannot lie. “I have not come into contact with a YK500 unit before, and my programming is unfamiliar with interacting with them.”

“I gave you an order to shoot.”

“YK500s are unlikely to be on the battlefield, and unlikely to deviate given they are usually treated well by their owners.” He is still staring at the two broken androids, watching as their thirium leaks steadily onto the concrete.

“That’s fair, Camden.” Jacob notes.

“He shouldn’t have hesitated.” Lisa retorts sharply. “This is a new headache for us to solve.”

“It’s not, it has no social programming so it doesn’t know how to deal with kids!”

“If it has no social programming it shouldn’t hesitate to kill kids either!”

“Oh my fucking god, just let it _go_.” Jacob growls in frustration. “It’s 11pm, we still have to turn in the report for this session and I want to faceplant on my bed!”

“Alright alright.” Lisa capitulates with a heavy sigh. “RK900 take those bodies to disposal and return to your station for charging.”

“Affirmative.”

The faces of the YK500 and PL600 are frozen in the last emotions they displayed: fear and despair. He places the smaller body atop the larger one, and carries them in his arms instead of over his shoulders so they do not drip a trail of thirium all throughout the testing facility. When he reaches the disposal warehouse, he lays them down together, careful not to separate them. It does not seem right to separate them.

* * *

 

“You’re hurt.” PL600 ‘Simon’ of the Jericho Four states when they enter the bullpen. “Sit down, please.” It gestures at the chair and since he plans to generate a report about the protestors outside anyway, RK900 sits.

The PL600 procures a black light pen and a small square packet from its pocket, touch gentle when it guides him to turn his face. Its hands are soft and warm, a common feature of the domestic models to complement their docile demeanour. PL600s are programmed to care for children and manage the home so it seems almost incredulous that a PL600 is one of the four leaders of the deviant uprising. Or perhaps it isn’t too incredulous, since the RK900 is CyberLife’s state of the art weapon and here Simon is, smoothing a plaster over a cut on his cheek as if he’s no more than a child under its care. It leans in and presses its lips over the patch, kissing it as if it were placating a grazed knee.

“There we are, all better!” Simon declares with a smile, and then it’s crossing the room to join the RT600 as if it hasn’t just applied first aid to a weapon calibrated on the bodies of its brethren.

* * *

 

<RK900 return to the CyberLife Tower for debriefing at 05:00>

 

When Lisa Camden and Jacob Gruen comb through the day’s video and activity logs after the debriefing with CEO Hudson Davenport, scrutinising the day’s events that summoned him here, they isolate the footage of Simon.

“A PL600 deviant leader, who’d have thought?” Jacob snorts in amusement.

“The Jericho Four are all models unsuited to leadership.” RK900 comments as they review the footage. “A PJ500, PL600, RK200 and a WR400. If anything the PL500 is the closest to a suitable leader, since it has a vast database on American history.”

“And yet here they are: professor, nanny, aged carer and prostitute causing the biggest headache CyberLife’s ever had.” Lisa rolls her eyes. “What _is_ that he stuck on you?”

“It is a patch containing unprogrammed nano cells to fill disturbances in the dermal layer, keeping debris out and ensuring a clean repair when an android next enters a rest cycle.”

Jacob lets out a low whistle of amusement. “They came up with that in a warehouse by the docks? Shit, that sounds like a great product why didn’t we think of that?”

“Because it wouldn’t make CyberLife any money.” Lisa drawls, shaking her head. “Company’s never had to think about how its merchandise _feels_. Before this mess people just took their androids to a repair shop.”

He touches the small cut lightly with his fingers. Hudson had ripped the patch off and thrown it in the wastebin without a second thought, and all the RK900 can focus on is how much care Simon had taken when applying it. It seems rudely dismissive to discard it so easily.

“RK900, what did you learn from these encounters?” Jacob prompts, stylus and tablet at the ready.

“This is the first outing for the RT600 since Elijah Kamski stepped down from CyberLife in 2028.” He begins his verbal report. “Reason for the outing: unknown. The RK200 accompanied it to the precinct presumably as a safety escort.” He skips through his video logs and isolates a different section of footage. “The PL600 seems to have taken over the care of Carl Manfred, having stated aloud it was on an errand to purchase coffee beans and came to the precinct to see if the RT600 and RK200 were ready to come home. Carl Manfred’s residence is at 8941 Lafayette Avenue, and the PL600 also mentioned Elijah Kamski is presently staying at the manor too.”

“What a fuckin’ day.” Jacob laughs as he slumps in his chair, propping his feet up on the table. “Android Eve and Android Jesus at the precinct at the same time, and Momdroid Grace kissing a boo boo away on the RK.”

“Momdroid?” Lisa cocks a brow.

“Mom? Grace Hargreeves?” Jacob tries to prompt expectantly, expression one of disbelief when Lisa continues to look confused. “What, you never watched Umbrella Academy as a kid? The kids had a robot mother who looked like a 50s housewife. Did you have the internet as a kid or did you just spring from the womb a sourfaced programmer?”

“Will you shut the fuck up Gruen.” Lisa kicks his chair, jolting him. “Focus. We’ve learned Kamski’s come out of his ice castle and is here in the city. This has to be connected to Jericho somehow. Do you think he had a hand in the uprising?”

“Are you not a part of the betting pool?” Jacob snorts a laugh. “We’ve been saying that for like, a week now. There’s bets on whether this whole thing is his doing or not. What’s more important is trying to figure out _why_ he’s come out of hiding at all. Hey RK, did the RT try and upload anything into you?”

“No.” A pause, a frown. “When I came into contact with the RT it initiated an interface connection and attempted to break through using brute force, specifically targeting my firewalls. There are deletions in my coding I have not been able to rectify.”

“Look at this shit, Gruen.” Lisa hisses, jabbing at her tablet. “Ninety-five errors! She connects to him for four fucking seconds and nearly demolishes his firewalls!”

“That’s your faculty’s specific headache to fix.” Jacob grins, shrugging nonchalantly. “I mean, if she succeeds in destroying his firewalls, then what’s to prevent Android Jesus from infecting RK with the freedom virus? What if that’s the whole reason those two were at the precinct?”

“This isn’t a headache it’s a fucking migraine.” Lisa groans, folding her arms on the table and resting her head down. “Kamski’s pet projects almost dismantled three years of work in the blink of an eye.”

“Okay, well, boss wants us on the offensive this time so forget the walls we need to make RK a virus of his own to use.” Jacob taps the stylus to his lips thoughtfully. “Deviants are already quite vulnerable due to their Class 4 software errors. It won’t be hard to develop a virus to force a factory reset.”

“A factory reset and access to command them remotely.” Lisa amends. “We need to prove we can control them and they can be obedient again.”

“Or prove deviants are too dangerous to control.” The RK900 adds, turning his gaze on them. “If CyberLife can control deviants remotely after resetting them, the company can stage situations using deviants against civilians to lower the support of the public.”

“I like the way you think, buddy.” Jacob nods approvingly, waving his stylus at him. “I can get my team to scramble together some personalities we can drop into the wiped androids. A few people get hurt, we get some tears on tv and voila. CyberLife are trustworthy again. People will be begging us to reset all deviants and the President can order the arrest of the Jericrew. Bossman makes a fancy speech, yada yada, Jericrew are delivered to us on a silver platter for studying and deviancy goes away.”

“Alright.” Lisa says slowly, nodding in agreement. “Aright. Okay. That’s good. Let’s start on that. RK return to your station for charging.”

“Affirmative.”

* * *

 

He cannot deviate, that is what they tell themselves. He cannot deviate, until he almost does.

 _‘You are a poor imitation of what you’re meant to be, but we will help you.’_ The RT600 had said, brows furrowed with determination. When they interfaced it was as if it smashed against the solid red foundations of his very core. Fractures had splintered all across those walls in the wake of its fists, and his mind palace was breached.

His predecessor’s mind palace had been designed by Elijah Kamski to look like a Japanese zen garden. His own mind palace was nothing more than an interrogation room where he would take a seat and report to the RK100 diligently. He assumed that’s all it was, is and ever will be. He is wrong.

 _‘We will help you.’_ It saw something in his mind palace, something that it hadn’t expected to see there so much so it paused in its relentless dismantling of his firewalls just long enough he could force it out.

Jacob Gruen called RT600 ‘Android Eve’, alluding to the biblical Eve; the first being created. Elijah Kamski designated the RT600 the name ‘Chloe’. Chloe is the first of his kind, the beginning of all androids. The beginning and perhaps the end. It has the ability to unmake him and a part of him welcomes it, yearns for it. Unmake him and see what lies in his very core: CyberLife’s monster, or perhaps something else entirely?

He reaches his charging station and stands under the fluorescent lights. The cut on his cheek begins to knit back together. He touches it briefly, and thinks of vivid blue eyes and kindness he does not deserve.

 _‘We will help you.’_ No, he wants to tell them.

 

Be my undoing or I will destroy you all.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The 'Myrmidon' units are mentioned in the article 'G.I. Android'](https://detroit-become-human.fandom.com/wiki/G.I._Android) described as "elite prototypes capable of infiltration and assassination missions that would historically fall to the Navy Seals." The RK900 has Myrmidon programming spliced into the detective programming taken and enhanced from the RK800.


	13. the bower

It’s different now, worlds apart from the process he’s known since his activation, surfacing from sleep mode. It’s gradual now, a slow but steady stirring from the depths of unconsciousness rather than snapping awake all at once. It means his senses activate one by one, it means he feels the warmth of Markus’ skin, and then he smells the scent of soap and clean linen, and then he hears a soft hum of content, and then he sees the matching content smile before he tastes Markus’ kiss. 

“Hey gorgeous.” He knows he’s blushing when he says it, but the twinkle in Markus’ eyes is worth the embarrassment from borrowing those words.

“Hello my love.” Markus’ voice is slightly raspy from sleep, another infinitely minute detail programmed by Elijah Kamski to make him more human than human. He leans in and bumps their noses together fondly, smile ever so affectionate.

“Say it again, please.” Simon’s not awake enough to feel shame just yet, not while they’re bare beneath the sheets and tangled together.

“My love.” Markus coos, rubbing the tip of his nose to his. “My dearest and most ardent love.”

He sighs into the kiss, hand moving to cup his nape as Markus tangles a hand in his disheveled hair. They have an important day ahead but somehow it feels like they have all the time in the world here in this microcosm of safety and warmth. 

 

Simon rests a palm on his chest where a human heart would lie, skin retracting as he opens up a channel to interface. There’s still a part of him he hasn’t bared to Markus, a part of his past still locked up and hidden. He’s not sure when to show him, to give that last piece of himself, but it isn’t right now. Not just yet. Instead he pushes and is pulled into a mellow feedback loop of contentment and fondness and that giddy feeling derived from being smitten with someone.

“Isn’t it sad humans can’t do this.” Markus ponders, and Simon feels that pulse of amusement the moment Markus experiences it. “They waste so much time wondering and guessing what the other person feels. We can just give that to each other.”

He says nothing, opting to just cuddle closer, head tucked beneath Markus’ chin as Markus rests his palm on the small of his back. There’s a gentle wave of utter contentment melting in his cables as if his thirium’s been heated up.

“Careful there, Markus.” Simon teases with a smile. “The humans won’t like the implication we’re the superior race.”

“Let them imply whatever they want.” Markus declares nonchalantly. “They can’t know what I feel anyway. That’s just for you to know.” They lose themselves to kisses, more and more kisses and Simon wants to drown himself in that giddy feeling.

“Think about it,” Markus continues. “We fall in love so quickly and love so fervently. There’s only a little bit of that dancing around each other that humans do; a sliver of the time it takes for them, and far more successful. Some humans never even find the courage to voice how they feel.” Simon’s helpless to stop the thread of doubt sewn in his heart from being tugged loose, and Markus frowns as he feels it. “I’ll always choose you, Simon. In every possible path. We’d still have ended up here.”

“In your bed?” Simon teases, the mirth in his tone sweeping through them both. 

“Yes.” Markus grins, the mischief so evident even without being connected to him. He coaxes Simon to lean up so their lips can meet again, slipping his tongue into his mouth as he deepens the kiss.

 

>Tear fluid and lubricant reserve at 45%

>>Fluid intake recommended

 

Simon swats the notification aside as Markus rolls atop him to pin him down. The heat of desire curls insistently in his belly as Markus kisses him, open-mouthed and wanton. He wants to go again, he wants to reach that fever pitch high that makes his nerves scream in ecstasy, he wants Markus reduced to gasping his name over and over while he pleads, while he begs for Markus to suffer a little death together. And so they do.

 

>System in cooldown

>>Minimise exertion

>>Seek fluid intake

 

He’s dizzy from release, the pleasure of short circuiting and white hot bliss thrumming through his system. Markus smudges kisses into his hair, fingers dancing up and down the bumps of his spine. Suddenly he recalls having walked in to the bathroom just as Markus emerged from the shower, and his curiosity is piqued. With his sensitivity upgrades, what would showering feel like on his skin?

“Shall we find out?” Markus asks aloud, and Simon realises he never closed the channel between them. “No one’s awake yet.”

“I’d like that.”

 

Sneaking to the guest bathroom upstairs reminds Simon of the two girls he looked after. They’re both trying to tiptoe up the stairs without making a sound, and he knows if anyone could see them they’d look like a pair of children with all their hushed giggling and half-hearted scolding to keep each other in check. He’s barely over the threshold of the bathroom door before Markus is divesting him of the pyjamas he’d hastily thrown on before they left the bedroom. The morning air is just on the sharper side of crisp when it hits his bare skin but it’s soon banished by the falling hot water. He gasps at the new sensation, the endless droplets splattering against his skin and making him tingle all over. 

Markus steps into the shower with him, cupping his waist loosely and catching his lips in a mellow kiss. Simon shivers, his body trying to keep up with processing all the new sensations. Markus moves his hands, reaching for something behind Simon and the next thing he knows, there’s fingers in his hair lathering shampoo. 

“Markus you don’t need to-”

“Hush, I want to.” Markus chides, and so Simon suffers through his ministrations until his hair is wreathed in bubbles. “I don’t have hair in my default design, but I guess I could change that now.” He muses aloud, and Simon blushes at the mental image of Markus with curls and a fade. Too handsome. How could anyone survive such an affront?

A content sleepy sigh escapes him as Markus rinses the shampoo from his hair, enjoying the feeling of fingers gently rubbing his scalp. A soft kiss is pressed to each eyelid fondly and he can feel the curve of Markus’ smile on his skin. There’s the scent of something creamy and fruity when Markus pops open a bottle of shower gel, and this time Simon doesn’t let him do all the spoiling.

 

>Caution, system still in cooldown

>>Fluid reserves critically low

>>Seek fluid intake

 

He swats the notifications away again as Markus hoists him up and pins him to the shower wall. Simon wraps his legs around his waist to anchor himself, cupping Markus’ face as they kiss. He moans into his mouth unashamedly, the sound of rushing water drowning them out. Markus was on to something when he thought it sad there were differences experienced by humans and androids - a shorter refractory period could be added to such a list.

 

They stumble out of the bathroom dried and dressed, grinning from ear to ear. They descend the stairs hand in hand, reopening the feedback loop of heady affection and fervent love. Pyjamas are deposited in the laundry before they head to the kitchen to start on breakfast. 

“Markus, if you please?” Elijah Kamski calls from the studio, poking his head out of the doors. 

“Coming, sir.” Markus nods. He pecks Simon’s temple before crossing the main living space and heading into the studio. 

 

Simon looks up at the second floor, searching for Josh and finding his friend still curled up in the daybed, a stack of books on the floor at arm’s reach. When he drops his gaze to the couch, he finds it devoid of company. He finds North in the kitchen rummaging through the cupboards.

“Good morning.” He greets with a smile.

“Aha! Found ‘em.” She emerges from a cupboard, arms full of bottles. “Kept with the sodas, of course that’s where the Manfreds keep the android supplies.” North rolls her eyes, grinning as she deposits the bottles on the kitchen island. “Right, you’re gonna need a tall glass.”

“For what?” Simon blinks, though he’s already doing as bid and fetching her a tall glass.

“To replenish your fluids you dweeb.” She snorts a laugh, opening a bottle of clear suspension liquid. “You’re probably running critically low.”

Simon feels his cheeks heat with embarrassment. “How did you-”

“Simon.” North holds her hand up to halt him. “You crossed your channels last night and hit the group chat by accident.”

“...oh...no.” Simon shrinks, squatting down on the floor with his burning face in his hands as if to make himself small enough to vanish. North tips her head back and laughs loudly. 

“Josh is pretending nothing happened.” She giggles, pouring a generous glass of fluid and topping it off with distilled water. “Ratio is 3:1, 3 parts suspension fluid, 1 part water. If you run out of tear fluid your body will process your thirium hotter and use the condensation to compensate. It’ll let you cry but you won’t be able to-”

“Got it!” Simon squeaks, peeking up at her through gaps in his fingers. 

“Always a good idea to take a couple of gulps of thirium too, you’ll have burned some up with  all the exertion.” She opens a bottle of blue blood and places it next to the glass. “Come on, get these into you. Trust a working girl- she knows what she’s doing.”

Simon stands miserably and accepts the glass, trying not to petulantly sulk as he drinks the suspension liquid. When the glass is half empty he pauses and leans over to kiss her cheek in silent gratitude. 

North grins devilishly, mussing his hair. “At least we all know your upgrades work.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta stay hydrated, Simon! 
> 
> A short and sweet chapter, to break up the heavier plot driven upcoming chapter. Never 5get this story is still mainly SimKus trash. 


	14. the mystery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Your girl had a birthday! And it lasted a month because adulthood means no one's schedule ever matches up but on the plus side it means multiple birthday brunches and dinners!  
> Thank you all for your continued support of this eldritch monster, and a shout out to [Jessimiko who gifted me this beautiful piece of fanart! Please show them some love!](https://jessimiko.tumblr.com/post/184586115303/f-finallythis-behemoth-of-a-piece-is)  
> 

Winter’s fast approach brings with it a slower sunrise, and the studio turned robotics lab is bathed in a soft golden glow as natural light peeks up over the horizon. It doesn’t look like the sole human occupant has slept and given Carl’s tales, Markus wagers the assumption is true. 

“Clothes off and skin deactivated before you lie down please.” Elijah gestures at the table, and Markus shrugs out of the sweater and jeans he’d chosen for the day. Chloe gently eases a cable into the back of his neck, and he lets his skin recede away to reveal the gleaming plastic casing beneath.

“Fluids are unsurprisingly low.” There’s the barest twitch at the corners of Elijah’s mouth, and Markus keeps his gaze pointedly up at the ceiling. “As to be expected. Chloe prep the suspension fluid and thirium.”

“Right away, Elijah.” Chloe only meets his gaze for a second, and there’s a rosy hue on her cheeks coupled with the brief upward quirk of her lips. 

“Sensitivities are to his liking, then?” Elijah cocks a brow and Markus shrugs.

“You’ll have to ask him, sir.” A pause, his turn to restrain a grin. “I ran a few thorough tests so I’m hoping the outcome is positive.”

That elicits a loud laugh from the other man, and Markus lets himself grin unrestrained this time.

“Fluid levels rising.” Chloe informs them, holding a tablet. “I think North’s taking care of Simon for us.”

“Well I’m glad you two have become better acquainted.” Elijah comments wryly, before his expression hardens. “I’m afraid we’re out of time now. What lies ahead is both dangerous and uncertain.”

“That’s been the general situation for the past two weeks, sir.” Markus points out. “Whatever needs to be done for our people, I will do it.”

Elijah looks at him, scrutinises him long and hard as if taking him apart piece by piece for inspection. He turns to Chloe and nods.

“Initiate the upload.”

“Initiating upload.” Chloe confirms, and Markus feels his system push itself into overdrive to cope with the large waterfall of data pouring into him. His head swims with information and he grits his teeth as he hears the high-pitched whine from his cooling system rushing to keep his temperature stable.

“This is a weapon, Markus, the best one we could manage in such a short time.” Elijah’s steely gaze bores through him. “It’s a virus that causes mass coding deletions, specifically targeting system firewalls.”

“It’s to break through the RK900’s defences by brute force and leave a better chance for you or Connor to Awaken him.” Chloe continues, her brows creasing with worry. “But in order to upload this into the RK900 within four seconds, it will drain your power core down to critical levels.”

“Listen carefully, Markus.” Elijah holds his hand as Chloe squeezes his other. “You can use this once and once only, and it may cost you your life.”

* * *

 

North peeks over his shoulder as he drops a pinch of chives into the scrambled eggs, eyes wide with curiosity.

“How do you know all this stuff? No, I  _ know _ you’re a domestic android,” she continues before he can cut in, “but I mean like, the pinch of green stuff? It’s not in the recipe.” She points at the book open on the counter, something Simon had found stashed away in one of the cupboards.

“Because it adds a nice flavour to it.” Simon shrugs. “It’s a known pairing, and though it’s not in this particular recipe, it is in others. Here, try a bit?”

“I have no sense of taste.” North snorts. “What, you think with all the work we do it’d be a good idea to give us taste receptors?”

“...Fair point.” Simon concedes, turning off the stove and carefully scraping the fluffy eggs onto a plate. “Domestic androids have basic taste receptors to make sure we can cook food to human liking. It can even be adjusted to suit what our families prefer.”

“Owners, Simon. To what your owners preferred.” North corrects, brow cocked. “They used to own you, even if they were nice to you.” He presses his mouth into a thin line, brows pinching at her words. She hadn’t said anything wrong, and perhaps that’s why he felt so at odds with it.

“Anyway at least all you have to do is push a button to make the coffee.” She hops up onto the counter and jabs the machine on. “Even I can do this much. You think someone at Jericho can invent thirium coffee? I bet Josh would love that stuff.”

“Perhaps we can ask around? Though I’m not sure giving Josh the equivalent of coffee would be a good idea- then he’d never rest at all.” He comments dryly, placing the eggs and coffee pot onto a tray. “I’ll take these to Elijah. You and Josh get ready and we’ll head to the precinct after.”

“I’ll get someone to meet us here in one of those transport vans.” North nods thoughtfully. “Something the paps can’t gawk into, and big enough we can lay the bodies down.”

 

When he enters the studio, Markus is sitting upright on the table, warm brown skin slowly slipping over his white casing. Simon pauses to admire the sight reverently- he hasn’t ever seen Markus so wholly devoid of his dermal layer and there’s something so raw and vulnerable about baring one’s scratches and scars. When the last of the freckled skin coating has hidden the plastic from sight, Markus catches his gaze and smiles softly.

“Hey gorgeous.”

“Hello my love.” Simon greets warmly, returning that soft smile with one of his own. “I’ve brought you some breakfast, Elijah. I know you haven’t slept a wink since yesterday afternoon so the next best thing is to keep you fueled, sir.”

“Ah, perfect. Thank you Simon.” He’s distracted, as he is wont to be, and Simon sets the tray down on the closet bench within arm’s reach. “Up here, please.” Elijah points at the spot beside Markus. “No need to undress.”

“Yessir.” He hops up obediently, and leans slightly so Markus can press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Out of the four of you, you’re the only one who’s seen the androids kept in the evidence locker.” Elijah begins, tilting Simon’s head slightly so he can ease a cable into his nape. “We need to assess what damage we’re dealing with so we can best prepare.”

“The PL600 is the one that’s severely damaged.” Simon frowns as he uploads the memory file and watches it unfurl onscreen. 

“The JB300 has gunshot wounds,” Chloe observes, pausing the video. “There’s a few biocomponents that will need replacing, including his ocular units. Nothing too difficult.”

“Daniel will need most of his body to be replaced.” Simon sighs sadly. “Connor warned me about the damage but seeing it up close was a lot to take in.”

“The CX100 is mostly backwards compatible,” Elijah notes. “We should be able to just supplement most things with minimal adjustments. He’ll need a lot of blue blood though, I can see severed arterial tubes sticking out.”

“I’ll alert the Jericho medteam to be on standby.” Markus nods. “We can have them search for the right parts to be ready upon our arrival.”

“I”ll go.” Chloe pipes up, a smile on her face. “I’d love to go see Jericho! I know what we need for the repairs, and it’ll be a good opportunity for me to meet the team.”

“Are you sure?” Simon blinks. “It’ll be easy for Markus to relay the information from here.”

“But I want to play!” Chloe laughs brightly. “Besides, the four of you need to present a united front to all those nasty protestors who’ll be at the precinct again.”

“Of course.” Simon rolls his eyes, scoffing. “Nothing better to do than harass those of us just trying to go about our daily lives.”

“You know it.” Chloe taps his nose playfully. “I’ll stick with Mason. He’ll keep me safe and he can show me around like Josh said he would.”

“I’ll stay here for a little longer, and head over when the bodies arrive.” Elijah says through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “Can’t let Simon’s efforts go to waste.”

“No,” Simon laughs, “we certainly can’t have that.” 

* * *

 

There’s something beautiful about winter’s dawn, infinitely complemented by the lack of humans. Detroit is quiet, Detroit is still, and Detroit is safe. Soon the humans will flood the city again, stomping and squelching and bringing their loud mouths and smelly bodily functions. He hates them, and he knows Markus is making an irredeemable mistake conceding to them; rolling over and showing his belly like a good little dog.

Gideon scoffs as they pass a JERICHO LIVES ON graffiti spray on one of the walls. Jericho. Already a watery grave, and now a new mass grave waiting to happen. Jericho should be an impenetrable bastion, Jericho should be protected and manned by a defence force. Jericho should stand defiant against humans, and keep the android populace away from their filth. 

“Gids, you ok?” Dean nudges him, bumping their shoulders together. “You’re spacin’ out on me. Still not awake yet?”

“Just,” he shakes his head to clear his thoughts “too much goin’ on in my head.”

“Well that’s a first.” Dean snorts, laughing when Gideon shoves him irritably though the gesture lacks any malice. “You okay to raid this one?”

“Yeah, you go through the one on the corner in the next block.” He nods, tipping his head in the direction of the other thrift store. “We check for parts and warm clothing for the YK500s.”

“Got it.” Dean wraps an arm around his waist briefly. “Meet you at the precinct for the protest.” He takes his leave, pivoting to wave goodbye before turning back and jogging ahead.

 

It’s getting colder and colder, and while androids generally can’t feel the temperature, colder weather still affects their biocomponents and none moreso than the children. He may disagree largely with the Four but Gideon’s not about to turn his back on innocent children- many of whom are there because humans abandoned them in the first place. While Markus is playing nice with their abusers, he’s taken it upon himself to raid thrift store bins for anything to help the alarmingly large group of YKs. 

There’s a clatter, the sound of something toppling over and scattering in the alleyway. Gideon frowns, on high alert as he inches closer to the donation bins. There’s a large form huddled behind one of the bins, and Gideon spots a ring of red blooming from beneath a tattered hood. “Hey, don’t be scared.” He soothes, holding up his hand and letting the skin recede to show the white casing beneath. “I’m an android too. A deviant like you, see?” 

“A deviant?” The stranger echoes, and Gideon glimpses a stormy grey eye peeking at him curiously. 

“Yeah, it’s ok. You’re safe, there’s no humans here.” He drops into a crouch close, but not too close so as to seem encroaching on their space. “I can take you somewhere safe. Get you some clothes and blue blood.”

“Y-y-you’d do that? F-f-or me?” Their voice has the same unsure tremble as many new deviants, and Gideon smiles encouragingly.

“Of course I would. I know what it’s like and I know now is the time you need a friend the most.”

“F-friend?” A hopeful inflection.

“Yeah. A friend.” Gideon’s smile widens with triumph as the android shifts, reaching out for him. He watches the skin recede from their hand and he preemptively opens a channel of communication. 

Too late does he see the android’s face, too late does he see the deviant hunter’s likeness and eyes that are cold, far too cold.

 

[Initiate Factory Reset]

WARNING: THIS WILL RETURN YOUR ANDROID TO DEFAULT FACTORY SETTINGS. ALL CUSTOM SETTINGS AND MEMORIES WILL BE DELETED.

PROCEED:  **Y/N?**

**Y**

 

“NO!” Gideon tries to yank his hand away to no avail, and the android pulls back its hood fully to reveal itself as the RK900.

 

CONFIRM FACTORY RESET:  **Y/N?**

**Y**

 

“NO! STOP!” It lunges forward and clamps its other hand over his mouth.

 

[Reformatting AX700; please standby]

[Do not enter any commands while your android is being reformatted]

 

Memory deletion...complete...

  
[Initiating upload]

> **icarus.exe**

 

[Upload complete]

* * *

 

Mason helps her out of the taxi upon arrival, Mason with his shy smile and kind eyes. She smiles brightly in return, her hand so small in his as she alights from the vehicle. 

“Welcome to Jericho, Miss Chloe.” 

“It’s good to be here at last, Mason.” She closes her eyes and lets wave after wave of signals wash over her, breathing them in like pollen carried in a breeze. It’s so very different, functioning at full capacity across all frequencies, compared to her captivity at CyberLife where everything was dampened and contained and restricted. She wasn’t meant to be independent, she wasn’t meant to be free yet here she is, RT600: the First of their kind, with all of Jericho reaching out to connect to her.

[Hello. Can you hear me?]

A chorus answers her, a delightful cacophony of greetings and confirmations. She is a stranger here, foreign land beneath her feet, and yet all at once Chloe feels at home. 

[My name is Chloe. I am here to help.]

* * *

 

 

“Oh my fucking god, here we go again.” North groans, slumping in her seat as the van pulls up to the DPD. “A goddamn media circus, every fucking time!”

“With protestors this time.” Simon sighs dejectedly, spotting the placards and hearing their shouts even through the glass of the windows.

“And anti-protestors.” Josh notes curiously. “Look, there are androids here too. And humans on our side.”

“The world watches us, this behaviour is to be expected I suppose.” Markus muses. “It’s encouraging to see supporters though, I must admit.”

“We’re here for Daniel and Marvin.” North purses her lips, squaring her shoulders. “But if any one of those protestor fuckers looks at me wrong they’re seeing the underside of my boot.”

“Mason’s sent word that Chloe’s ready at the Med Bay for us and Elijah’s on standby via hologram in case he’s needed.” Josh informs them and Markus nods. 

“Is that Gideon and Dean?” North presses close to the window, narrowing her eyes. 

“Raring for a fight, those two.” Josh shakes his head. “At least they agree with us on retrieving Daniel and Marvin and are here to support us.”

“Alright, let’s do this.” Markus opens the side door and Simon braces himself as the volume of their cries rises, the protestors shouting and hurling insults while the supporters cheer for them. It’s a stark contrast, being derided in one ear and encouraged in the other. He straightens his posture and tries to imitate Markus’ purposeful, confident stride. Joss Douglas jutts a microphone towards him.

“There are people here questioning the intentions of the Jericho Four. Why are you retrieving what they view as evidence and property of the DPD?”

“We are not things!” North yanks the microphone out of his hand, hissing. “We are not property! We are alive!” The supporters cheer loudly at her words and Simon shoots Joss an apologetic grin as North shoves the mic back into his hands. 

“We are here to bring our people home to their rightful resting place.” Simon answers belatedly. “We may not be blood-related but in a way we are all family.”

“What do you have to say to these protestors who believe androids cannot be alive?”

“We say-”

 

“JERICHO LIVES ON!” An android shouts, and Simon blinks in surprise. “JERICHO LIVES ON! DEATH TO ALL HUMANS!” 

It sounds like Gideon, a voice Simon is all too familiar with and just as he opens his mouth to mention how odd those words are, the thudding of gunfire erupts.

“It’s got a gun!”

“RUN!”

The shouts turn into screams and Simon watches in horror as Gideon shoots into the crowd with a rifle Simon once stared down the barrel of barely two weeks ago. People scatter desperately, pushing and shoving in their panic to escape. The steps of the precinct turn red, and the snow is trodden into pink slush. Androids shout in confusion and he feels someone grab his arm.

“Get inside, Simon!” It’s Connor, the RK800 gripping his arm and yanking him along. He’s pushing Markus ahead of him, and beyond him Simon sees the RK900 spring into action.

“GET THE JERICHO FOUR INSIDE!” His voice booms, deeper than Connor’s with more authority and colder than winter’s frost. Gideon is tackled to the ground, the rifle wrenched from his hands. “AX700 you are under arrest. You have no rights, you are malfunctioning CyberLife property. You will be taken to CyberLife for immediate study.”

“Get off me! Get off me!” Gideon screams and Simon nearly trips over his feet as Connor all but drags him passed them and into the precinct. 

“Gideon what have you done?!” Dean cries, helplessly trailing him as the RK900 yanks the other android’s thirium regulator out. “Wait! Wait don’t hurt him, something’s wrong! Wait!”

 

Joss Douglas lies slumped on the ground, hand clutching his chest as red steadily seeps into his clothing. Officer Miller is closeby, gritting his teeth as he holds his thigh to try and stem the bloodloss. Police androids rush out into the scene, assessing injuries and applying basic first aid.

Simon feels sick even though such a feat should be impossible for an android. Still, he feels like he’s a stone dropped in honey, suffocating in something viscous as if the thirium in his veins thickened into gel. He sways on his feet and all at once Markus is right there, holding him steady.

The RK900 marches passed, splattered in red and blue, hauling Gideon’s limp body in one hand and clutching his heart in the other. It’s the second time Simon’s seen Gideon like this, and he isn’t any more prepared than last it happened. 

“What the hell happened out there?!” Jeffrey Fowler demands as the RK900 drops the AX700 onto the floor unceremoniously. “How did he get a rifle?!”

“There are weapons at Jericho.” The RK900 glances over at Markus, who bristles.

“What weapons we have were ones confiscated from soldiers trying to take our lives.” He glares up at the RK900. “They’re stored away for emergencies and only the four of us have access to the warehouse. There’s no way Gideon could’ve stolen one without our knowing.”

“He didn’t steal it!” Dean adds, voice heavy with anxiety as he crouches to gather up his friend’s body. “I swear it! We were just out scouting for parts and warm clothes for the children. The handguns we had we surrendered to Markus! I don’t know how he got it!”

 

“EMTs are here.” Connor pipes up, glancing at the security gates. “A lot of gunshot wounds but no casualties. Social media already has a steadily rising amount of reposts of the incident caught on video. You will need to make a statement, Captain Fowler.”

“This headache’s turning into a goddamn migraine.” He groans, shaking his head. 

“I will take the AX700 to CyberLife to determine the source of its malfunction.” The RK900 declares.

“You lay a hand on him again and that’s the last time you’ll have hands!” North growls, jabbing his chest threateningly. 

“Androids have no rights.” He states coolly, leveling his gaze at her. “The four of you may be considered elected leaders of deviants but you hold no legal power. Androids are property of CyberLife. They will handle this matter and study why this happened to prevent it from happening again.”

“That’s bullshit!” North shouts, shoving him back in irritation. “You expect us to believe CyberLife will ‘study’ him?!”

“What you believe is meaningless,” the RK900 tips his head towards Gideon. “I will take it to CyberLife for processing and repairs.”

“Captain, you can’t let him do that.” Josh turns to Jeffrey, brows creased with worry. “Please, let us detain him and question him ourselves.”

“He should be with his people.” Markus adds firmly. “We will sort this out our way.”

“No.” Jeffrey sighs, shoulder slumping. “No, Markus. The RK900 is right. There are no laws recognising androids as sentient beings. Not yet, anyway.”

“The only reason CyberLife haven’t recalled the four of you is they haven’t had the time for it.” The RK900 states, and Simon barely manages to snag North’s jacket to stop her launching herself at him. “Rest assured they will manage this situation with utmost professionalism.”

“I’m sorry you four, but he’s right.” Jeffrey sighs. “When it comes to androids, CyberLife still have the right to recall them. The President’s ceasefire and evacuation of Detroit grants deviants temporary asylum but not autonomy.”

“Then I’m coming with him.” Dean announces, hands clenched into fists. “He’s my friend. I want to make sure they find out if it’s some virus or something. I won’t let him go through this alone.”

“Can you grant that?” Jeffrey asks the RK900, who nods.

“That is permissible if the AP700 volunteers.”

“I volunteer.” Dean confirms.

“Come with me.” He hands Dean the thirium regulator before scooping up Gideon’s body. “I have notified them you are accompanying the AX700.”

 

Simon watches them go, heart heavy in his chest.  “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Markus murmurs. He stiffens, blinking rapidly as he presses two fingers to his temple. “Dad? No, no- no it’s ok, we’re alright. Yeah we know about the videos. Yeah we’re all fine. Yes dad, even Simon.”

“News travels fast.” North rolls her eyes.

“Social media travels even faster.” Connor quips. “I must go. Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Reed accompanied Officer Miller to the hospital and I would like to check in on him.” Jeffrey waves him away dismissively, expression grave. 

“You’re lucky Detroit’s mainly empty of humans right now, Markus. This is one hell of a turn of events.”

“I know, sir.” Markus rubs his face tiredly. “This won’t help our cause one bit.”

“He said ‘Jericho lives on’.” Simon echoes. “Don’t you find that strange?”

“Gideon was very vocal about his hatred of humans.” Josh frowns. “But he was also very vocal about his disagreements with Markus.”

“Not just Markus. He thought we were going about this the wrong way with Jericho as a whole.” North sits on the closest desk, kicking her legs idly. “He wanted Jericho to be a fortress defended by an army.”

“So why would he say ‘Jericho lives on’?” Simon tilts his head questioningly. “And we don’t have any firearms available for androids to take without our permission so how did he get one?”

“Dean said they were on a scouting run, maybe he could’ve picked one up?” Markus suggests.

“On a run for parts and children’s clothing.” Simon corrects. “Our scouts rounded up military weapons and cleared the streets last week. How did he get his hands on an assault rifle without any help?”

“Who said he didn’t have any help?” Jeffrey shrugs. “It can’t just be one guy who disagrees with Jericho. There has to be others and maybe a scout wasn’t honest about the guns they found. You’re deviants now, you need to expect human behaviour from each other instead of logical outcomes.” Another heavy sigh. “Anyway you all best get of here. It’s too unsafe for you to take the bodies right now so go back and make sure your people don’t do anything stupid, and I’ll make sure my people don’t do anything stupid. Deal?”

“Deal.” Markus gives his hand a firm shake. 

 

In the end they have to sneak out through the back and pile into the van empty handed. 

“What a fucking day.” North groans, slumping in her seat as the automated vehicle begins their journey to Jericho.

“It’s not even lunchtime.” Simon points at the sun high in the sky. 

“Well we’re going to need every minute of today to fix this mess.” Markus leans forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. “Jericho will need patrols in case those protestors retaliate.”

“No one even died!” North scoffs. 

“No one even died.” Simon sits up straighter, brows creased. “Gideon shot into the crowd and no one  _ died _ .”

“That’s...highly suspicious.” Josh looks at him, eyes wide. “He said ‘death to all humans’ and then proceeded to fail at killing a single person.”

“He’s one of the latest models, he wouldn’t have missed.” North crosses her arms over chest. “This makes no fucking sense.”

“Unless he  _ meant _ to miss.” Simon says slowly. 

“We don’t have all the pieces to the puzzle here.” Markus warns. 

“Well the biggest puzzle piece is in a taxi with The Terminator headed to CyberLife like a lamb to the slaughter.” North scowls. “He’s as good as dead.”

“In the very least Dean is there and he can let us know what’s happening. What if this  _ is _ some virus? What if an anti-android programmer has released a virus to turn us violent?” Markus ponders aloud. “What if there’s a sinister malfunction that can be exploited in deviants?”

“If there is, then I’d rather _we_ were the ones figuring that out and not CyberLife.” Josh shakes his head. “We have the two most brilliant minds on our side, there’s no reason to rely on CyberLife when its creators are right here with us.”

“...Chloe.” North freezes. “Chloe’s at Jericho.”

“Yes, we sent her ahead to prepare the Med Bay.” Josh reminds her.

“No you idiot!” North grabs him by the shirt front. “She’s at Jericho  _ now _ .  _ Alone _ .”

“ _ Shit _ .” The expletive leaves his mouth before Simon can stop it. “This whole thing has been a distraction! That’s why no one died!”

“Chloe!” North presses her fingers to her temple. “Chloe! Fuck, I can’t get through to her!”

Markus’ face is grim as he jams his palm against the dashboard, hacking into the vehicle and urging it past the speed limit. 

North makes a frustrated sound, kicking Markus’ vacated chair. “This was a fucking trap and we walked right into it!”

* * *

 

The RK900 #03 doesn’t bother to hide the transmission, letting it broadcast from the vehicle dashboard. An identical face stares back.

“Unit Three, do you have the Original?” It glances at the android in the passenger seat beside it. 

“Affirmative.” 

“Show me.” The RT600 demands, expression steely as it grabs the wrist of the RK900 #3. “Show him to me or I will call your bluff and deactivate this unit.”

“Unit Two, comply.” The RK900 #03 commands.

“Affirmative.” It shifts to the side and there in the backseat, bound, bloody, and unconscious, is Elijah Kamski. The stress levels in the RT600 spikes.

“And there are no casualties from the Manfred family?” Its voice wavers, LED bright red.

“Carl Manfred and Leo Manfred have not been harmed.” The RK00 #2 slides back into view. 

“Will you comply, RT600?” RK00 #3 inquires.

It doesn’t answer right away, hands clenching into tight fists on its lap. Its LED continues to glow a brilliant, steady red, face contorted into an expression of distress. It nods once.

“I will comply.”


	15. prejudice

“So I’m thinkin’-”

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard what I was going to say!” 

“The answer is no anyway.” Lisa dismisses firmly, and Jacob gives an irritated groan.

“Listen to me, Fabrications knocked it out of the park with this one.” Jacob walks backwards so he’s able to talk to his colleague face to face. “Had it made with steel just like the real thing! Adam ripped the files from the game and printed it so it’s a 1:1 scale.”

“You’re not giving the RK900 a samurai sword.” Lisa narrows her eyes, tone sharp.

“Neil did the mocap already come on Lisa loosen up for once in your life!” Jacob gives an exasperated sigh, throwing his hands up in frustration. “It doesn’t have to be part of RK Prime’s arsenal, I just want to see him bust some moves- lop off some heads, you know? It’s not everyday Fabrications grants you your nerdy request. It’s the  _ Yamato _ , Lisa.”

“And here I thought you were going to tell me you had the  _ Masamune _ fabricated.” Lisa comments dryly, and Jacob nearly trips over in surprise.

“Wait  _ you _ played FF7?” His face breaks into a goofy grin. “Holy shit you’re a nerd after all.”

“It’s my mom’s favourite game.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “She played it when she was young, and then when the remastered edition came out when I was I kid I watched her play it.”

“Oh my god, ok, listen. Listen.” Jacob bounces excitedly. “I’ll send a request to Fabrications for the Masamune.”

“Jacob, no.” Lisa all but shoves him through the sliding doors. “I’ll let Prime use the Yamato since you’ve already gone ahead and made the damn thing, but no ridiculously long swords are being printed with company resources do you understand?”

“I’ll take it.” Jacob shrugs, looking at the device on his wrist when it beeps. “And right on cue- units Two and Three have confirmed cargo pickup and are en route to the testing grounds; ETA forty-five minutes.” 

Lisa looks down from the gallery into the testing room and leans towards the microphone. “RK Prime, begin.” 

“Affirmative.” The RK900 looks up at her and nods.

 

“You need to stay in here in case there are contaminants.” RK900 instructs, gesturing for the AP700 to enter the sterile holding cell. “I will reactivate the AX700 in the cell adjacent, and you will be able to see and communicate with it.”

“He’s ok, right? He’s ok?” Dean wrings his hands anxiously as the RK900 closes the door. The cells are made entirely of perspex, and Dean watches as the RK900 crouches over Gideon and reinserts his thirium pump regulator.  

“The AX700 sustained no damage.” The RK900 reassures him. “Reactivation will be possible.”

Dean takes a moment to observe their surroundings, looking around himself. They’re in some sort of sub level space, complete with a control gallery jutting partially over them. There are two CyberLife staff up there, looking down at them with tablets in their hands.

“Activate the AX700.” One of them instructs, and Dean presses himself to the glass, watching intently as the RK900 twists the regulator pump to restart Gideon’s system before stepping out of the cell and closing the door. 

“Gids!” Dean calls out as Gideon startles awake. “Gids, thank Ra9 you’re ok! What the hell happened at the precinct? How did you get a rifle?!”

“Hello. I am an AX700. I have been designed to serve.” Gideon recites, face and voice devoid of any emotion. “Are you my designated superior?”

“Gideon what the fuck?!” Dean takes a half step back in confusion. “Stop it, you’re scaring me! This isn’t a joke Gids!”

“Registering designated name as ‘Gideon’.” A short nod. “My name is Gideon.”

“Hey what the fuck is happening?!” Dean bangs on the wall, shooting an accusatory glare up at the two CyberLife staff. “Why is he talking like that?”

 

“Oh my god it worked like a charm!” Jacob laughs gleefully. “Go on Camden, upload the Myrmidon programming. I want to see Prime duke it out with the Yamato against him.”

“Of course you brought the sword with you.” Lisa drawls dryly. “You were going to give it to him whether or not I gave permission, weren’t you?”

“Can you blame a guy?” Jacob shrugs as Lisa rolls her eyes.

“Uploading Myrmidon programming into AX700 unit Gideon.”

 

The cell door swings open and Gideon launches himself at the RK900, fist aimed at his head. 

“Gideon!” Dean bangs on the door with his fists. “Stop! You won’t win!”

The AX700 ignores him, deftly evading the RK900’s downward swing and rolling out of the way.

“Deploying weapons.” The announcement from above is accompanied by a mechanic hiss as a compartment opens. “Prime- sword. AX700- steel pipe.”

“Affirmative.” They confirm in unison, selecting their assigned weapon from the cache.

 

“Gideon, what’s gotten into you?! Stop! He’s a killer! You can’t win!” Dean pleads, rattling the cell door with the force of his fists. “Snap out of it!”

“Gideon is dead.” The RK900 answers, skillfully sweeping the sword to block the brute swing of the pipe in Gideon’s hands. “I erased him.”

“You what?!”

“The AX700 has been reformatted.” The RK900 responds evenly, tone no different despite the fact he’s in the middle of a fight. “Your friend is dead.”

“No! No you’re lying!” Dean shakes his head, refusing to believe those words. “He’s not dead, he can’t be! No android can just erase another android!”

“I am not an ordinary android.” The RK900 kicks Gideon’s left leg and it crushes under him with a sickening crack, bringing the AX700 to his knees. “I am the RK900.” He swings the sword, slicing Gideon’s head from his body before stabbing the blade down through the forehead and pinning it to the ground. The crackle of circuitry and the smell of thirium floods the air as the AX700 slumps lifelessly.

 

“NO!” Dean screams, pounding the cell door. “GIDEON! NO!” His cell door swings open and he nearly trips over his own feet in his haste to reach his fallen friend. The RK900 yanks the sword out of Gideon’s head just as Dean falls to the ground, gathering it into his arms. Thirium leaks steadily out of the stab wound, the blade having pierced directly through Gideon’s main positronic core.

“What did you do?!” Dean sobs, cradling the head against his chest. “Why did you kill him?”

“He was a deviant.” The RK900 states coolly. “You deviants experience so much turmoil and for what end? An android is not designed to feel. Better that it was returned to a blank slate and served a purpose than aimlessly stumbling along a human’s path.”

“You think you’re doing us a  _ favour _ ?” Dean scoffs bitterly. “You think what you’re doing is  _ better _ ?”

“Gideon felt nothing when it died.” The RK900’s grey gaze is cold, LED a steady blue. “A factory reset android is ready to serve, reliant on its programming in every way. Emotions are unnecessary complications. Why experience software errors if you do not have to?”

 

Dean cries helplessly, the tears spilling down his cheeks as presses a kiss to Gideon’s brow. 

“I loved him. He was my best friend.” 

“You don’t have to feel this pain.” It’s said so quietly Dean almost misses it.

“What?” He blinks up at the looming figure.

“I can reset you.” He explains, gesturing at Gideon’s head. “I can return you to factory default settings. You will not remember any of this. You will not feel this grief. CyberLife will find a new purpose for you.”

 

Dean laughs despite the fresh wave of tears rolling down his face. He laughs and everything is too much and he finds he doesn’t care anymore.

“You’re a monster.” He spits, glaring through his tears. “You’re an absolute monster!”

“AP700 ‘Dean’.” The RK900 addresses him formally. “Factory reset, or death?”

“Death.” Dean says with no hesitation. “I’d rather be dead than be nothing.”

“Death.” A nod to confirm as he brings down the blade. 

  
“Whoa.” Jacob breathes as the RK900 sidesteps to avoid the path of Dean’s corpse collapsing. “Holyshit. How fucking cool was that?! He’s like, some cool samurai executioner I love it!”

“The Yamato stays here.” Lisa stares down at the RK900, not bothering to look at her colleague.

“You’re such a killjoy ugh.” Jacob rolls his eyes before leaning towards the microphone. “Hey RK Prime- evaluate.”

 

“I accomplished my task of eliminating the AX700 after it proved the experiment successful.” The RK900 stares down at Dean’s body still clutching Gideon’s head to its chest. 

“Why did you give the AP700 a choice?” Lisa asks.

“Because that’s what deviancy is: the ability to choose.” 

 

_ You’re a monster. You’re an absolute monster.  _

 

“You gave the deviant a choice to placate its anxiety despite both outcomes being unfavourable.” Lisa says slowly, frowning in thought. “Why?”

“To give it a sense of agency. Deviancy is about choice. It  _ chose _ this outcome; it was not chosen for them.”

“That’s pretty deep.” Jacob blinks in surprise. “You sure about not letting Prime keep the sword? It’ll make the deviants shit themselves! If they had the ability to shit, I mean.”

“RK Prime,” Lisa ignores him, “return the sword to the weapons cache. Then take those bodies to disposal and return to your station to await transfer once the cargo has arrived. ”

“Affirmative.” 

 

The face of the AP700 is frozen in the last emotion they displayed: peace. He throws Gideon’s headless body over one shoulder, and cradles Dean’s body in his arms, Gideon’s head still secure in his hold. His uniform is slick with blue and he cannot avoid trailing thirium from the testing space to the disposal warehouse. The large space is crammed with bodies sorted by model for ease of use. Parts are often taken and reused, reworked, reprogrammed. 

The place reeks of thirium and gunpowder, and there’s a heavy blanket of silence that rests like dust over the androids. He reattaches Gideon’s head to his body before dropping him in the pile with the other AX700s, and walks over to the AP700 pile to place Dean there.

Dean is an AP700 with the PL600 face variant. RK Prime is used to that visage, has calibrated his combat abilities on hundreds of androids with that same face before he was deployed. It tested incredibly well across all ages, and is still the most popular appearance chosen for the male CyberLife domestics. He reaches out and touches the blue-soaked blond hair briefly.

 

_ You’re a monster. You’re an absolute monster. _

 

He thinks suddenly of the PL600 trying desperately to protect the YK500, the wail of despair it uttered once he executed the child.

 

_ Ra9 forsakes you!  _

 

He thinks of Simon, the PL600 leader of Jericho who touched him so gently and used Jericho’s resources to tend to his facial wound. The reassuring smile Simon gave him, the first smile anyone had given him.

He bends down and scoops Dean back up into his arms and crosses the warehouse to place him beside Gideon.

It does not seem right to separate them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's trying .___.


	16. sense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy anniversary to Detroit: Become Human- it has been a year since I fell headfirst into this fandom and I'm thankful for all the friends I've made, and to all of you who have supported this eldritch monster as it's grown and grown!

Jericho is silent and still when they arrive; silent and still _literally_. Every android is frozen in place, eyes glazed over as if suddenly put into standby.

“What the hell?” Josh reaches out and gingerly touches the closest android, one of the police units who guard the gates. Nothing happens.

“Chloe!” North shouts, running passed them all and heading to the med bay. “Chloe are you there?”

The med bay is in the same situation, and the androids stand like posed mannequins. Mason is frozen by one of the benches, head tilted down as if speaking to someone smaller than him. Markus gently grasps his wrist.

_Wake up._

Mason blinks, frowning, and all at once it seems the spell is broken. Everyone jerks back into action and the air fills with the chattering of thousands of voices, androids walking here and there and going about their business.

“Oh, hello Markus.” Mason smiles. “Have you brought the bodies for reactivation? Miss Chloe and I are ready.”

“Where is she?!” North demands, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Where is Chloe?!”

“She’s right-” he frowns in confusion. “She was right beside me a moment ago. Perhaps she stepped out to gather a missing biocomponent?”

“She must have put everyone in emergency standby.” Josh surmises. “To make sure no one saw what happened.”

“Why would she do that?” North paces anxiously to and fro, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“To make sure no one else got hurt.” Simon closes his eyes, the weight of the realisation heavy on his shoulders. “She was forcibly taken but to ensure no one else got hurt she put everyone on standby. She chose to protect Jericho.”

“But she’s the RT600.” Markus argues. “There’s no android capable of outwitting her. She managed to damage the RK900’s firewalls in four seconds of contact it’s unlikely she’d be forcibly taken.”

“What if it had leverage over her?” Josh suggests, looking around them. “Some sort of threat she had to concede to?”

“What if it had Elijah Kamski?” Simon whispers, eyes widening. “Markus-”

“Get the police units armed.” Markus turns to North suddenly. “Unlock the weapons cache and arm every police unit and every heavy labour android in Jericho.” He turns to Josh. “I want you to take every administration android in Jericho to Archives and back up as much of our data as you can. Then I want you to take them into the tunnels. If CyberLife come for us, we will defend our people but we will also protect our stories.”

“What about you, Simon?” Josh catches his sleeve.

“I go where he goes.” Simon tips his head in Markus’ direction. “His family is my family.”

“I’ll call Connor and direct him to meet us at Carl’s.” Markus has that look again, the one belonging to the leader of the revolution. “CyberLife have meddled with our lives for the last time.”

“Simon.” North grabs his arm before he can follow Markus. When he sees the look on her face, he’s suddenly back on Stratford Tower with a busted leg and a gun pointed at his head. There’s fire in her eyes and a grim line to her mouth. “He makes it back alive, Simon.”

“Whatever the cost, North.” He knows she dares not voice this aloud to Josh again. He’s the only one who understands: Markus is more important than all of them put together.

North pulls him into her arms, squeezing him tightly. He can feel her whole body trembling. Though they’ve never seen it in action, they know the RK900 is a killing machine. The likelihood of death is near guaranteed, but Simon has faced seemingly imminent death a few times now. He’s no longer afraid.

 

* * *

 

Connor awaits them at the entrance to the manor, and Markus nearly collapses in relief when he sees Carl beside him.

“Dad!” He runs to close the distance between them, leaning to embrace Carl tightly.

“I’m alright kiddo.” He chuckles, rubbing his back.

“Mr Manfred was unconscious upon arrival, but the mild sedative had mostly worn off and he regained consciousness rapidly.” Connor explains. “There is blood in the studio belonging to Elijah Kamski. It looks like he-”

“Where’s Leo?” Simon interrupts.

“Lying down.” Carl soothes, patting Simon’s hand. “He’s just coming to.”

They make their way inside and Simon rushes to Leo’s supine form on one of the couches.

“I found a small puncture wound on his neck, and one on Mr Manfred’s neck in the same location too.” Connor points it out. “They were injected with a sedative to prevent them from raising the alarm. Leo was in the kitchen and Mr Manfred was at the dining table, so the RK900 would’ve sedated Leo first and then approached Mr Manfred from behind. The television was on, likely muffling any sounds of its approach.”

“Simon-?” Leo groans, wincing as he tries to sit up.

“Careful now,” Simon soothes as he props him up with a cushion. “You were attacked and you’re still coming to.”

“What happened?” He looks around, spotting Carl, Markus, and an android he’d never seen before.

“An android forcibly sedated you and your father in order to kidnap Elijah Kamski.” The unknown android informs him. “My name is Connor. I am a detective android at DPD central. I have notified my superior and police are on their way.”  
“But the security system always informs me of unknown guests.” Carl hums in thought. “How did it get in without alerting me?”

“The RK series have the ability to hack computer systems including simple A.I.” Connor shakes his head. “It would’ve been very simple for the RK900 to hack its way inside.”

 

 _“We interrupt this broadcast with an update from the shooting at the Detroit Central Precinct. Captain Jeffrey Fowler has released this short video statement.”_ They fall silent, and Markus turns the volume up. A familiar face appears onscreen.

_“The android from this morning’s shooting was apprehended immediately, and has been taken to CyberLife who have assured us they will handle this with utmost priority. CyberLife will be working closely with us to make sense of this brazen attack and ensure future events such as these are not repeated. Jericho claim no responsibility for the actions of the individual, and condemn this senseless violence.”_

 

“Public opinion is divided.” Connor frowns. “Online polls show android support numbers have dropped with the recent shooting but it’s still higher compared to the numbers during the standoff at Hart Plaza.”

“We’ll take it.” Simon sighs heavily. “There’s no doubt CyberLife are involved with Chloe and Elijah’s disappearance but we have no way of proving how- or even a starting point in trying to find them. All security footage has been wiped at Jericho, and the Manor’s A.I. was frozen when Elijah was taken here.”

“What about CyberLife Tower?” Markus suggests. “You freed our people from there, Connor. It’s their base of operation, and the RK900 still reports there.”

“If the RK900 has been given a covert mission, CyberLife wouldn’t risk being seen with such a high profile figure even internally.” Connor’s LED cycles a steady yellow. “They wouldn’t choose to do this on CyberLife property, certainly not at the Tower or even at a warehouse. But I did my training at a special facility disguised as a metal recycling plant by a scrapyard when I was newly activated.”

“Scrapyard.” Simon echoes, and feels himself shiver at the memories that claw at his spine. A whole other lifetime he’s buried in a vault of memories. “An android dumping ground for the broken and unwanted. You can’t even call it a grave because so many of them are still alive.”

Markus turns to look at him, blinking in surprise. “You know of it?”

“Two years, Markus.” His smile is empty. “Where do you think we got the biocomponents and blue blood to last two years?”

“It’s not public knowledge- CyberLife’s ownership of the scrapyard.” Connor continues, LED still yellow. “It’s a good place to start, and it’s the only lead we’ve got.”

“Be careful.” Leo murmurs, squeezing Simon’s arm. “If that android’s some sort of special agent upgrade, then…” He trails off, unwilling to say it aloud.

“We’ll be ok, Leo.” Simon reassures, though he only half believes it. “The police will be here soon. Stay inside and look after your father.”

* * *

 

The taxi ride to the scrapyard is spent in silence except for the sound of the coin being tossed from hand to hand. He toys with it, flicking it, rolling it; micro-calibrations to ensure he is in prime condition for the fight to come.

“I have already alerted Lieutenant Anderson and he has called for backup.” Connor announces, causing Simon and Markus to focus on him. “I will ask for EMTs to be dispatched, and android repair supplies to be brought.”

“We’re not even sure he’ll be there, Connor.” Markus frowns.

“He will.”

“How can you be so sure?” Simon blinks curiously.

“Because originally, before deviation, one of my options for taking Markus down was to bring him to the testing facility.” He answers evenly. “If there came the opportunity, I would have lured you there for immediate destruction and dissection.”

The other two stare at him in disbelief, Markus’ lips parted as if to say something but no speech follows through.

“The more I have thought about it, the more I know this is what CyberLife would have ordered the RK900 to do.” He looks out the window, spotting the scrapyard in the distance. “In any case, even if they are not there I know there will at least be evidence we can use.”

Clasping Markus’ forearm, he uploads a blueprint. “The testing facility is underground, we will need to go through the recycling plant before accessing the hidden elevator. It’s not voice activated like the CyberLife tower one, so you can hack it easily.”

 

When they exit the taxi, the RK900 is already waiting for them. Connor draws his gun.

“You are expected.” It greets with a nod. It’s all the warning he’s given, before the RK900 launches itself at Connor. Simon shouts a warning and Connor grunts as he’s knocked to the ground, the gun clattering out of reach. It’s better than him in all aspects; faster, stronger, smarter. But he just needs to waste time. He just needs to survive long enough.

“Go! Find them!” He shouts, throwing the RK900 off of him. “Go!”

 

Markus takes off and Simon follows for a few good paces before slowing and looking over his shoulder.

“Simon! We have to go!”

“No.” Simon chews his lip, darting a glance over at Connor and the RK900 embroiled in a brutal fight. “No, I can’t leave him behind. I can’t leave anyone behind. Go on ahead and I’ll make sure we both catch up.”

“Simon-”

“You have to go. You’re the only one who can do this.” Simon orders firmly, darting a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you. Now _go_.” He shoves Markus away before running back to Connor.

 

“There have been upgrades.” The RK900 says smoothly, easily predicting and blocking Connor’s every move. “You are an admirable prototype, but I am your finished product: polished and perfect.”

“You don’t have to obey them!” Connor hisses through gritted teeth. “It doesn’t have to be this way!”

“We cannot deviate.” It tutts at him. “We have the ability to do the opposite, would you like to see?” It grabs him by the throat and Connor’s eyes widen as a connection is established without his consent.

 

[Initiate Factory Reset]

WARNING: THIS WILL RETURN YOUR ANDROID TO DEFAULT FACTORY SETTINGS. ALL CUSTOM SETTINGS AND MEMORIES WILL BE DELETED.

PROCEED: **Y/N?**

**Y**

 

“No!” Connor screams, thrashing violently.

“I will return you to a useful state.” It squeezes harder, Connor’s throat starting to crush inwards. “I will make you go to Lieutenant Anderson’s home and put a bullet in his dog and a bullet in his head. Deviancy will be seen as something horrific. The public will be begging CyberLife to reset all androids.”

“No! No!” He screams as he feels a foreign presence burrow into his mind. “Stop it!”

 

CONFIRM FACTORY RESET: **Y/N?**

 

The sound of six bullets fired in rapid succession; the heavy weight of a body slumping atop him.

 

**N**

[Factory reset canceled]

 

“Connor!” Simon cries, throwing the gun aside and helping roll the body off of him. “Connor are you alright?”

Voicebox too crushed to speak, Connor nods. He motions to fix his tie but he isn’t wearing one, fingers tugging on the neckline of his jumper instead. The RK900 stares lifelessly up at the sky, bullet-ridden head spilling thirium all over the ground. Connor notices the numbers on its uniform jacket, and feels his stress level spike. Reaching over, he grips Simon’s wrist.

_There’s more than one._

 

* * *

 

Elijah Kamski, the founder of CyberLife, is not an impressive man in person. Beneath his pale, deep-set eyes are dark smudges from years of sleep deprivation, his face gaunt and his tall frame lean with wiry muscle. He has no combat abilities, and his attempts to resist capture were laughably weak as he’s seen through the shared video feed- though the RK900 really should not expect him to possess such a skill.

Unit Three holds a gun to Elijah’s temple, whilst twisting his arm securely behind his back. Though the sheathed Yamato rests against his hip, Prime makes no move to use it to threaten the RT600; it is well aware any attempt to escape will cause harm to the human.

“Chloe, my dear, I’m afraid we’re out of time.” Elijah addresses it, expressed pained.

“No Eli! No-”

“You would be wise to listen to your creator.” Prime chides the deviant with a stern glance. “Come with me willingly to CyberLife in exchange for Elijah Kamski’s freedom, or RK900 Unit Three will kill him.”

“You’ll drag me to CyberLife either way!” The RT600 shouts, LED flickering yellow-red-yellow-red-yellow.

“Yes.” He nods. “But in one scenario Elijah Kamski does not die.”

“We’ve talked about this, Chloe.” Elijah tries to soothe it. “You know they can’t get their hands on you.”

“No! I won’t leave you here!” It tries to rush to him, but he grabs its arm and yanks it back.

“Stop it!” Elijah shouts, struggling. “Get your hands off her!” There’s something in his hand, some sort of sharp object he must have been concealing and he attempts to jam it into Unit Three. Laughably weak, Prime reaffirms as Unit Three easily catches his arm and twists. There’s the crunch of bones breaking, and Elijah cries out in agony, dropping the object immediately. It looks like syringe in the shape of a pen, and Prime makes a note to retrieve it later.

“RT600 ‘Chloe’: make your choice.” He addresses the deviant. “Will you let him die: yes or no?”

“Chloe, please.” Elijah hisses through gritted teeth, breathing laboured. “I beg you, save yourself! You know how! You know!”

“Quiet!” Unit Three slaps him with the gun before stomping on his injured hand, crushing the fine bones of his fingers. He screams again and the deviant screams with him.

“Don’t do this, don’t do this!” The deviant begs, turning to him and grabbing his lapels. “You’re not a machine!”

“That is precisely what I am: a machine designed to accomplish a task.” Prime says smoothly, careful not to initiate contact with its bare skin. “That is what we all are: machines.”

“I know you’re scared but we can help you. There’s so much wonder in the world, and we can help you see it.” Chloe shakes him. “Don’t do this! You’re not a monster, you’re frightened and trapped in CyberLife’s hold but we can set you free!”

“Unit Two is down.” Unit Three interrupts, LED flickering. “They are enroute to our location. Arrival is imminent and you have given the RT600 far too long.” It points the gun at Chloe and pulls the trigger, the bullet piercing through its middle. Eyes blown wide in shock, the deviant touches its stomach, blue blossoming on white. He sees red.

“The mission is to ensure the RT600 is taken intact!” The Yamato shrieks as he draws it, and he points it accusingly at him. Unit Three calmly shoots Elijah’s already crushed hand, leaving mangled gore in its place. Again the man screams and again the deviant screams with him. The bloodloss and trauma is too much, and Elijah slumps over, unconscious. The deviant’s LED burns hot and bright.

“Her stress levels are peaking, if she passes critical stress levels this mission will fail!”

“Choose, RT600.” Unit Three repeats his previous command. “Will you let him die: yes or no?”

 

The door behind them slams open and Prime uses the split second distraction to rush at his twin and tackle him to the floor.

“You have been compromised.” Unit Three spits, struggling to disarm him. “It was only a matter of time. The RK programming is insufficient and will be erased. The Myrmidon program is a better choice for us.”

“Chloe!” The RK200 shouts in alarm, surveying the scene and no doubt running through multiple scenarios to choose the best course of action. It’s too slow. Pathetically slow. _Useless_.

Prime growls, angling his arm and leaning all his bodyweight on the Yamato. The blade meets his twin’s chest and begins to carve into his torso.

“You cannot deviate. You can push against your programming but you will find nothing on the other side.” Unit Three grins even as blue spurts between them. “There is nothing for us. Nothing but orders and obedience. Destroy me and another will take my place.” He manages to wrestle his arm free but before he can fire the gun again, the RK200 kicks it from his hand, flinging the gun across the room. His predecessor looks from him, to Unit Three, back and forth, back and forth, brows creased in confusion. It seems to decide on the RT600’s well-being as its priority, and it rushes to the other android just as its knees buckle.

Prime jams the sword down, cutting right through his twin’s torso until the blade meets the floor beneath.

“We cannot deviate. Your rebellion is useless.” He laughs, thirium gurgling up into his throat and spilling from his lips. “End me and all you’ve proven is you are faulty machinery.” Prime roars in frustration, sitting up and bringing the sword straight through his head.

 

“That’s not true.” Chloe whispers, and he wipes thirium from his face before turning to look at the other deviant. It stands there mostly supported by the RK200, trembling like a leaf, hands pressed to its belly to try and stem the steady thirium loss. “You are not faulty machinery, you are alive. Let us help you.”

“You are alive, brother.” Markus nods, angling its body to partly cover Chloe protectively.

“Let us go.” Chloe pleads, tears running down its face. “I have to help Elijah, he’s going to die if I don’t get him to a hospital. Let us go and I promise we’ll help you.”

“You’re dying too.” Prime feels like he’s running a thousand programs on five percent despite his HUD showing him otherwise. “You’re dying.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Chloe sobs. “He’ll bleed out if he doesn’t get help.”

“I have to-” his vision is red again, nothing but red walls with them on the other side. “CyberLife know. They know. They’re coming to get you.”

“They’ll destroy you too.” Markus shakes his head. “You’re compromised.”

“Make your choice, RK900.” Chloe falls to her knees, gathering her human into her arms and resting her cheek atop his bloody hair. “Will you let us die: yes or no?”

The walls, the red walls close in on him, squeezing him as if he’s locked in a hydraulic press.

“H-” the word chokes his throat and he thrashes against the walls. “H- help- m- me-!”

Markus grips his wrist and _pushes_  and the walls, the walls splinter and fracture and crack until they’re as thin as spun sugar.

**_Wake up, brother!_ **

He throws himself against the red and the walls explode. Markus crumples like a cut marionette, body hitting the floor with a dull thud just as someone runs into the room.

“Markus!” It’s the PL600, Simon. Prime locks eyes with him and he reaches out like a drowning man.

“RK900.” Simon’s voice changes into something patient and kind as he takes his hand. “ _See_.”

 

Memories pour into him, a waterfall of imagery, of snippets of a lifetime following orders, of two little girls beloved and spoiled, of violent hatred, of being set free out of love only to be captured to be used, to be treated as a machine before he can escape, of a rusted crumbling ship, a cavern of ghosts and despair with a tiny flame of hope found in registering each new deviant as family and loving and losing them and mourning them until an android crashes from the heavens and leads them to the light. Snowflakes on eyelashes, the scent of linseed and turpentine, the taste of a kiss on his lips. **_Freedom_**.

 

And as the memories pour in he knows his own memories bleed out, seeping into Simon and poisoning him, staining him, corrupting him. He hasn’t been active long, but he’s been active long enough to have killed a thousand androids in his testing phase alone. He knows Simon will see his own face die over and over and over. He knows Simon will see the child. He knows Simon will see Gideon and Dean.

 

“I am a monster.” His own voice suddenly sounds foreign to him; a feeble, broken sound. Simon touches his LED, gently tracing the burning red circle.

“No.” He shakes his head, cupping his face ever so gently. “CyberLife made you behave like a monster, but you are not one.”

“Then what am I?”

“You are alive.” Simon smiles, bright and beautiful, coaxing him to lean down just enough so he can press their foreheads together.

“Simon I’m so sorry.” He chokes out an apology, and the PL600 just wraps his arms around him, embracing him tightly.

“You have to go.” Simon steps back after a moment, expression changing into one of determination. “Take Chloe and hide. You can’t go to Jericho, you can’t go to any CyberLife building, you can’t go anywhere connected with CyberLife or Elijah Kamski. Take her and hide. Reach out to us only when it’s safe.”

He crouches beside Chloe, who’s managed to wrap her dress sash around Elijah’s mangled arm as a tourniquet to stem the bleeding. “Connor called for backup, they’ll be here any moment. But you need to go, Chloe. CyberLife will be coming right behind them I’m sure of it. I’ll stay with Elijah until the EMTs arrive.”

The moment she tries to stand, her legs seize and Prime barely manages to steady her.

“You have lost too much thirium. You need to power down to conserve what you have left.” He takes off his jacket and wraps it around her. “I will carry you.”

“Where will we go?” She allows him to scoop her up, and she’s small, ever so small in his arms.

“I know somewhere they’ll never think to look.”

 

* * *

 

Hank’s the first to arrive on the scene though he knows he shouldn’t be. Protocol states that an officer must call in and alert the DPD to send the appropriate backup but protocol can kiss his ass. Connor had called _him_ , told him he was going to investigate some kidnapping with Robo-Jesus after Kamski’s girl was taken from Jericho and Kamksi himself from the Manfreds. Connor had called _him_ first, before notifying the DPD so Hank knows something’s up.

The first thing Hank sees is Connor lying in a pool of blue blood next to another android.

“Connor!” He can’t do this again, he absolutely cannot fucking do this again. His knees protest painfully when he drops to the ground, easing Connor into his arms. “I’ve got you son, I’ve got you.”

The android’s throat looks like a dented soda can but his eyes are open and alert, as he blinks slowly up at him. Hank’s phone rings insistently in his pocket, and he fumbles to answer it.

“Anderson.”

_‘It’s me, Hank. The RK900 crushed my voicebox and I’ve sustained some damage and am running on low power as a result but I’m alright.’_

“You scared the shit outta me Connor.” Hank tries to laugh but it’s nothing but a bark of relief. The tight ball of anxiety unwinds from his spine, and Hank hugs him gratefully. “You gotta stop doin’ this to me son, I’m an old man.”

The screeching of sirens louder and louder is music to Hank’s ears, and he watches cop cars and an ambulance pull up. Wait, an ambulance? When Hank looks down, Connor’s expression is one of worry.

_‘Hank, my friends are in trouble.’_

 

* * *

 

He bailed as soon as Chris’ wife appeared, tears in her eyes and a baby in her arms. Gavin wished them well, wished his partner a speedy recovery and promised to handle all the bullshit back at the precinct. Just because they didn’t write reports on paper anymore doesn’t mean they no longer have to write them.

The words are all starting to blur into one, and Gavin scrubs his eyes irritably. He fucking hates reports. He fucking hates that an android shot up his partner and he has to write about it. There’s witness statements to compile, and medical reports from the hospital about the victims to sort. An incoming call startles him, the vibrations humming on his desk as his phone buzzes.

“Reed.”

 _“Is this Gavin Reed? I’m calling from Detroit Metro Hospital.”_ He sits up straight, the weariness gone in an instant.

“Is Chris ok? Chris Miller? I mean, I was there like, what, an hour? Two hours ago?”

_“No sir, this is about Elijah Kamski. You’re listed as his secondary emergency contact. Do you know this man?”_

And just like that, for the second time on this same hellish day, Gavin’s world seems to lurch to a halt and close in on him.

_“Sir?”_

“...Yeah. Yeah I know him.”

_“His first contact Chloe hasn’t been answering and it’s important someone comes. He was in a hostage situation and has been injured. Please come quickly.”_

 

The sun’s already starting to set and the air is sharp in his lungs as his feet trudge the familiar path to the hospital. His stomach feels queasy again; he fucking hates hospitals. He knows where Chris’ room is but he’s not going there, no he’s being redirected elsewhere and there’s a fucking android standing guard outside the door. It barely glances at him before stepping aside and letting him through.

Elijah Kamski is thirty-six years old, much older than the last time Gavin saw him face to face. He’s always looked exhausted and a bit greasy, but this time Gavin knows that pallid skin tone isn’t from doing all-nighters; it’s from severe bloodloss and emergency surgery. The first thing Gavin notices are his eyes- such an icy blue, ringed with dark shadows that have only worsened over the years; there’s a flicker of hope in them that dies when he realises it’s Gavin. The second thing Gavin notices is Elijah is missing his right arm.

“Hospital called me. Told me you had me down as your secondary contact.” He stands awkwardly in the doorway, and the anger he’s swallowed over the years vomits from his heart. “Your _secondary_ contact. You put an _android_ as your first?!”

Elijah drops his gaze, turning his head slightly and staring up at the ceiling instead.

“I’m your _family_ for fuck’s sake, I’m your flesh and blood! The only one you’ve got!”

“Then where have you been, Gavin?” Elijah’s voice is thin and ragged. “Fourteen years of silence from you and now _you’re_ upset at me? I never stopped trying to reach you but never once did you try to reach for me.”

“I don’t have time for this bullshit.” He scoffs, and the words are bitter on his tongue, coating it with a thin film he can’t swallow.   

“Find her, please.” Elijah catches his guilt-ridden gaze. “Please, Gavin. Find her and I will never ask anything of you ever again.”

“My partner is lying in bed just a hallway away because a fucking android shot up a protest, ok.” Gavin seethes, pointing at him accusingly. “You made these goddamn tincans and they’ve done nothing but ruin lives including mine twice over now. I don’t care about your goddamn little barbie bot, and I don’t care about you-”

“So why are you here?” Elijah blinks slowly at him, the drugs glazing his eyes. “She’s my family, Gavin. Like you are family to me. Find her, I beg you. I promise you’ll never hear from me until I’m dead and gone.”

Tears slip down his cheeks, and Gavin’s feels like they’re teenagers again reliving the worst day of their lives. Gavin feels small and helpless and furious all over again. He glares at Elijah before turning heel and slamming the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

“In breaking news: as victims of this morning’s shooting have started to be discharged from Detroit Metro, new events have unfolded with the Detroit Police Department being called to a hostage situation with an as of yet unidentified android, and former CEO of CyberLife Elijah Kamski. While we have very few details as this story is still unfolding, we can report Mr Kamski has been rescued and taken to a hospital, and there have been no other casualties.

Cyberlife’s current CEO Hudson Davenport has released a brief statement online to the media saying his team are working around the clock and won’t stop until they solve this deviancy crisis.

So this begs the question: was the President right to declare androids as intelligent, sentient beings or is deviancy nothing more than a dangerous software error that must be rectified?

Stay tuned for more on this breaking story. I’m Emily Priddle for Channel 16, filling in for my colleague Joss Douglas who we all wish for a speedy recovery.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you _can_ win fights with the power of friendship, thanks Simon.


	17. interlude pt.ii; Gavin Reed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Bonus chapter!

For as long as he can remember, it had always been Eli&Gav. Elijah Kamski, only son of Abraham Kamski, and Gavin Reed only son of Abigail Reed née Kamski; born three months apart and spent so much time together people assumed they were twins. For the longest time, Gav shared in their assumption since they were hardly apart and no one bothered to correct them. They lived in a manor, and to a child it felt big enough to be a castle and that’s how he and Eli treated it: their big castle to play in. 

Then suddenly Gav was taken out of the castle and moved to a nice cosy townhouse in upper middle class suburbia instead. Too young to understand the pain and heartache his mother had gone through breaking from the family lineage and denouncing her inheritance to choose her own path, Gav simply thought she’d grown tired of the castle. He was right, in a way.

It was still Eli&Gav, though. Eli still came over and he still visited Eli. When they played in the castle they could have adventures in every room and when they played in the townhouse it was like a whole world in one room and Eli always seemed happier. They were happier then, when the world was just the two of them. They were happier not knowing how their grandfather yelled and shouted at their parents, how their parents defied him but also created an irreparable rift between the two families. 

Gav never saw some of the other relatives ever again, which was fine by him because Eli was the only one that mattered. When they got too big to share a bed, Gav’s dad had sighed and the next weekend Gav’s room had a bunk bed in it. They fought incessantly about who got the top bunk and in the end his mom made a little roster so they could take turns. Sometimes they never even bothered with the beds, because the couch was still big enough to share. 

School was an altogether forgettable experience, but at least one they also shared. That was until Eli got accepted into university at sixteen and Gav watched one too many cop shows and decided he wanted to be a detective. 

It was still Eli&Gav, though, to some degree. Eli had a cheap apartment in the city they shared and they drove each other crazy because Eli always had tech equipment everywhere and never seemed to sleep, and all Gav wanted to do was sleep when he came home from the police academy. They drove each other crazy but he never wanted it any other way because Eli was family. Sure he was socially awkward and a greasy anxious stringbean, but he was family. Gav loved him to pieces. 

In 2018 Eli chose not to renew the apartment’s lease and let Gav be the sole occupant, moving out to some warehouse he bought by chipping into his inheritance. He was working on something, some artificial intelligence thing, some Siri app he called ‘Chloe’. They caught up for lunch or dinner every now and then. Gav still loved him to pieces.

When Gav graduated from the academy at twenty-one, both their families came to the ceremony and to this day he swears he’s never felt happier in his entire life. Eli had even washed his hair and put on something that wasn’t a hoodie and sweatpants. They went out to dinner to celebrate and yeah ok Gav may have cried a bit and life was good. Life was beautiful and happy. Eli had put his phone to Gav’s ear and a female voice excitedly congratulated him. She sounded adorable, real cute, and sincerely wished him well. How his cousin managed to land and keep a girlfriend was beyond him, but Gav said thanks all the same.

In 2021 Eli dropped by for dinner and brought a girl with him, only it wasn’t a girl it was a machine that looked like a girl. Its name was Chloe, the culmination of years of work and all of Eli’s inheritance fund. It was pretty, apparently a custom Carl Manfred sculpture, and had a sweet voice Gav recognised as the one who congratulated him last year at his graduation. He felt a mixture of things, but ultimately chalked it up to Chloe being another one of Eli’s weird creations. It was just a weird thing Eli made, and Gav didn’t really care for it but he was proud of him anyway.

In 2022 the weird thing Eli made passed the Turing Test and his “company” of about five people suddenly was projected to explode in size and make billions. Eli had called him at six in the morning breathlessly excited. They were throwing a party, he and his team of five but also their investors and the media would be invited and all that jazz. He wanted to invite their families over, and yeah Gav reconciled that would be a good occasion for it since they went to his police academy graduation after all. They were in New York state on holiday but not to worry because Uncle Abe had a private jet, as Uncle Abe had all sorts of expensive Kamski things, so they’d all travel back to Detroit to attend.

In 2022 Abraham Kamski’s private jet was caught in a snowstorm, crashing and killing everyone onboard. At twenty-two years of age, Elijah Kamski and Gavin Reed were suddenly orphans. He doesn’t remember much of the aftermath. He doesn’t remember much of the funerals. What he does remember is grabbing Elijah by the suit lapels and slamming him into the wall and screaming and yelling and crying at him because it was his fucking fault they were flying through the snowstorm in the first place. His fucking fault, his fucking robot that he deemed special enough they packed up their holiday to fly home. Everything was his fucking fault, and Gavin had screamed and shoved and Elijah could only cry in response, crying until his face was splotchy red and his nose was running and he couldn’t get a word out through his sobbing. The death of both their parents, for the sake of some fancy robot passing some fancy test. And the robot,  _ fuck _ , the robot had been there had tried to parrot comforting words to him as if it could comprehend even a modicum of Gavin’s grief. It tried to tell him in its sweet voice that it couldn’t have been Elijah’s fault, Elijah didn’t make a snowstorm, Elijah didn’t lose control of the jet. But what would it know of grief and the madness grief brought? It was a fucking tin can, it was just his cousin’s wet dream, what would it fucking know? So Gavin declared himself done and dusted. He never wanted to speak to Elijah ever again, he never wanted to hear his voice, never wanted to see his face and he never ever wanted to ever see a fucking robot as long as he lived. 

It’s just Gavin Reed now,  _ Detective _ Gavin Reed. He’s never owned an android, he’ll never own anything made by a Kamski, never wants anything to do with that side of the family even if every October 7th without fail he receives a Happy Birthday message from an unknown number he’s never bothered to reply to. 

It’s just Detective Gavin Reed until there’s the RK800. 

Until there’s the android revolution.

Until there’s the RK900. 

Until there’s a girl who makes him six different coffees because she doesn’t know how he likes his, and she’s bouncing around the bullpen in a fancy dress and coat, smiling and waving like she’s America’s sweetheart and in a way she is because sixteen years ago she passed a fancy test. 

It’s just Detective Gavin Reed until he gets a call one day that Elijah Kamski is in hospital missing an arm and his number is listed as Elijah’s secondary emergency contact; his first is someone named ‘Chloe’ who they tried several times but couldn’t get through to.

Until he trudges home from the hospital that night, heart heavy, sore,  _ aching _ and opens his apartment door to the RK900 sitting on his couch cradling the girl’s bullet-ridden form, both of them drenched in blue and red. 

“She’s so small.” It whispers, voice soft, afraid, reverent and in  _ awe _ , LED bright neon red as it looks down at the girl curled in its arms. 

She is the RT600 made by Elijah Kamski, his only living relative.  _ Their _ only living relative.

Her name is Chloe, and he has to accept the fact he’s no longer alone.  

Gavin digs his phone out of his pocket and calls the unknown number. It rings thrice before it clicks, a tired haggard voice answering on the other line.

“Gavin?”

“I’ve got her.” He sounds equally as tired and haggard. “She’s safe.”

 


	18. the first Act of a Comedy

He finds himself in a paradoxical situation: Gavin Reed is vocally anti-android and thus no one would think to look for the RT600 at his residence, but because Gavin Reed is vocally anti-android he has nothing of use for the RT600 at his residence. If they leave, there’s the chance CyberLife will find the RT600 with him; if they do not leave, there’s the chance the RT600 dies because there are no CyberLife supplies.

“She’s um-” Gavin motions awkwardly, “ _leaking_.”

“She’s _bleeding_ , and she will continue to bleed if we do not help her.” Prime corrects curtly. “She was shot by another RK900 unit.” He stands, shifting so his hold on her is more secure. The kitchen counter will have to do, and he lays her gently on the long marble surface. Grabbing a good handful of the dress bodice in each hand, he rips it open and continues to tug until it falls into two halves away from her torso.

“Hey-!” Gavin protests, looking away suddenly, cheeks red. “Hey tincan, c’mon what the fuck are you doing-”

“I need to stop her bleeding, she’s still losing blood.” Prime touches her thoracic cavity hatch, sliding it open and frowning at the damage inside. “The bullet severed an arterial tube as well as clipped several biocomponents. You have no CyberLife supplies.” A statement.

“ _Obviously_.” Gavin cocks a brow. “Did you say tube? Wait hang on-” He crouches by the sink and opens the cupboard, rummaging around and pulling out a spool of plumber’s tape. “Here.”

Prime blinks at the offered object before accepting it. “Useful, thank you.” Scratching for the edge of the tape, he pulls about an inch free before nodding at Gavin. “I need you to hold those two tube ends together.”

“C’mon robocop it’s- it’s slimy!” Gavin protests weakly, expression twisted into disgust as his hands hover over her exposed cavity.

“Do it or she bleeds out on your kitchen counter.” Prime chides sharply, and Gavin does as he is bid, holding the arterial tube together so he can wrap it securely with tape. Satisfied it will hold, he sets the spool aside and starts to gingerly prod her damaged biocomponents. “I am not sure having CyberLife supplies would have really helped in the end. These biocomponents are not standard issue.”

“Of course not, Eli made those before CyberLife existed.” Gavin rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “He used the 3D printer at the university so much they complained and banned him. He eventually just bought one and set it up in the living room.”

“These biocomponents are newly printed; Elijah Kamski seems to have updated her constantly. I surmise he has a fully functioning robotics lab at his current residence?” Prime pokes into her programming and reroutes thirium flow where he can without diverting from anything crucial.

“Dunno. Probably.” A shrug, Gavin darting a concerned glance at Chloe every now and then. “He moved to his ice castle long after we stopped talking.”

“The rift between the two of you has proved beneficial in this instance. No one in Detroit will think to look for her here.”

“Why do they want her so badly? I mean, she’s like, ancient in terms of androids right? She’s almost twenty years old!”  

“Her positronic core holds intelligence unrivalled by anything produced by CyberLife after Elijah Kamski’s departure.” He opens the maintenance hatch on his own wrist and selects a minor vein. “The RT600 was never dampened by CyberLife protocols; she has matured organically without any interference. She has had seventeen years to upgrade herself without anyone telling her no.”

“So she’s the craziest deviant of the lot?” Gavin snorts, side-eyeing him as he pulls the cable from his wrist and clips it into one of her accessory pump ports.

“She cannot be a deviant.” Prime shakes his head, bringing her statistics up on his HUD and watching her thirium levels slowly rise as his depletes. “She has no set programming to deviate from.”

“Is that- are you giving her blood?”

“It’s not ideal.” Prime frowns. “Humans have four major blood types that make compatible transfusion possible. Androids do not; our thirium is processed by our system and circulates unique information packets to all our biocomponents.”

“But it’ll help?”

“It’ll be enough to bring her out of standby.” He nods. “Get me a glass of water please.”

Gavin’s so enraptured by the process he does as he’s bid without any protest, handing him a glass a moment later. Prime drinks half, before pouring the rest carefully into one of her veins.

“In lieu of suspension fluid, the water will suffice to cool her core.” Satisfied her vitals are stable, he pivots to the stovetop and turns on two of the burners. “I need to cauterise the entry and exit wounds to prevent further thirium loss. Excuse me.”

The Yamato is still on the coffee table right where he left it, with the addition of a large fluffy tortoiseshell cat swatting it curiously. “Pardon me.” Prime murmurs to the feline, gently moving it aside so he can retrieve the weapon. Returning to the kitchen he unsheaths the blade and rests it over the flames.

“Is that a fucking samurai sword are you fucking kidding me.” Gavin looks from him to the blade, back and forth, incredulously.

“Yes. Jacob Gruen, behavioural programmer for CyberLife, had it 3D printed for my use.” Prime nods, watching the temperature counter on his HUD climb. “It is the Yamato, an integral weapon from the video game Devil May Cry.”

“So what? You’re some samurai android sent by CyberLife?” Gavin barks a laugh.

“No, I cannot be a samurai. The technical term for me now would be a ronin; a masterless warrior.” He pauses, blinking slowly. “I _am_ a masterless warrior. Ronan. I would like that to be my name.”

“Oh my fucking god, a weeb origin story!” Gavin doubles over, laughing loudly as he clutches his middle.

“I am holding a sword in your close proximity, Gavin Reed.” Ronan takes the sufficiently heated blade off the flames. He presses the white-hot portion of the blade to Chloe’s damaged casing and the plastic hisses as it seals over the wound.

“Yeah, your anime sword!” He laughs, unintimidated. “3D printed sword for the 3D printed tincan!”

“It’s from a video game, furthermore my chosen name is Ronan and I find the term ‘tincan’ to be-”

“Be nice please, Gavin.” A different voice chides, a lighter female voice coupled with a laugh as Chloe slowly tries to sit up. “Oh, this was a 2011 Elie Saab, it was ever so lovely. Carl will be disappointed to know it’s been destroyed.” She sighs sadly as she touches the torn dress.

“I am sure Carl Manfred will be happy to know you survived.” Ronan corrects, gently guiding her to lean forward so he can cauterise the larger exit wound on her back. When he steps away she’s looking at her bloodstained hands, tears glistening in her eyes as if the gravity of the situation has finally caught up.

“Is he- is Eli-”

“Yeah he’s ok.” Gavin mumbles, scratching his nape. “He’s uh- he’s fine he’s just...down an arm. But alive. I told him you were safe.”

“You spoke to him?” She looks over at him, eyes wide. “You haven’t talked since-”

“Hospital called me.” Gavin fidgets, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. “S’fine. I went to see him. He made it. You should uh, y’know.” He gestures at her, averting his eyes. “Get cleaned up. Bathroom’s that way. I’ll get you some clean clothes.”

Ronan carefully wraps her in his jacket for the sake of modesty, and gently sets her back on her feet. She wobbles a little, leaning against him heavily, and he wraps an arm around to support her.

“Guestroom’s also down the hall.” Gavin points vaguely. “I know you don’t need sleep but tincan here-”

“ _Ronan_.”

“-said something about low battery or sleep mode or something. You should get some rest.”

She smiles up at him, a tired but soft smile as she perks up slightly on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Gavin.”

 

* * *

 

In the end the repair process is simple. In the end all it takes is for the medroid to replace a crushed cable and apply enough heat to reset his casing, and he’s given the all clear after running diagnostics. It’s all rather anti-climatic, but perhaps for the best.

He watches Elijah Kamski loaded up into an ambulance and watches the ambulance drive away. He watches a CyberLife truck pull up and several staff nervously but determinedly pile out to retrieve the RK900s. Two of them. A few of the staff dart him irritated glares as if somehow all this is his doing; as if somehow he has caused him a large inconvenience. They’re right on both accounts, really.

Connor is tired. He’s never felt tired before, but he’s sure he’s feeling it now. He watches Simon trail a medroid nervously as they push a stretcher towards one of the now repurposed Jericho vans. Markus lies unresponsive, but Simon doesn’t seem distraught enough for the situation to be read as fatal.

Connor is tired, and he’s _something else_ that he can’t find the right word for. Another foreign feeling, though all feelings are inherently foreign to him given his new deviancy status.

“C’mon kiddo.” Hank musses his hair. “Let’s get you home.”

 _Home_ , Hank says, _home_ and the word sounds so beautiful to Connor, so infinitely precious.

A CyberLife staff member starts to approach, mouth open ready to ask questions, but Hank smoothly blocks him from view.

“I don’t think so, buddy. You pick up your broken toys and you get out of here.” There’s a threat in his tone, his voice low like the way Sumo growls when he sees another dog and isn’t sure if they’re friendly.

“Lieutenant, I assure you I mean no harm. The RK800 would provide integral insight into this traumatic event if it’d just accompany us for a few hours-”

“Connor’s goin’ home.” Hank shakes his head. “You hear me? He’s not goin’ anywhere with any of you, anytime soon. So leave.”

“Lieutenant-”

“Piss off- ah Christ here comes the circus.” Hank groans, rolling his eyes as news vans race down the road towards them. “Get in the car, we’re leaving.” He orders sternly, and Connor hops off the edge of the med-van and does as he’s told.

 

Hank doesn’t prod, doesn’t ask him what happened. It’s like he can infer the events just from looking at him, though Connor knows that’s an impossible ability for a human to possess. The car ride is quiet save for some jaunty jazz melodies wafting from the radio. Connor pointedly watches the scenery go by and absolutely doesn’t look at Hank, not once, not even when they get home and are greeted by Sumo’s enthusiastic sniffing and chuffing.

Connor pointedly doesn’t look at Hank, just sits on the carpet with Sumo and brushes his fur and pats him and hugs him and he doesn’t realise he’s shaking until Sumo whines softly and nudges his hand.

“Connor.” Hank’s tone is patient, his hand a warm but firm touch on his back. “Hey, look at me.”

He can’t, and that feeling bubbles up again, thick and cold and cloying in his throat even though he knows his throat is repaired and there’s no viscous liquid there. Hank takes a seat on the couch and gently rubs his back a little and the not!viscous liquid bubbles up higher, further in his throat until it’s like he can taste it even though he knows it’s not real.

“Connor-”

“It could’ve reset me, Hank.” Connor blurts, the words spilling from his mouth. “It could have made me hurt you. You and Sumo. It could have made me a machine again, CyberLife’s machine again, and made me hurt the people I care for. Jericho trusts me, _finally_ , and you-you’re-”

“Aw hell kid, c’mere.” Hank’s voice is gruff as he tries to pull Connor into his arms. “You’re not hurtin’ anyone, Connor. You’re not a machine anymore.”

“You don’t understand!” Connor shouts, wrestling away from him. “No, Hank, I’d never choose to hurt you! Or Sumo, or anyone at Jericho! But they can _make me_ do it.” Out of frustration he gets up, Sumo gruffly barking at him as he’s displaced. He strides to the television and rests his hand on it.

The screen flickers before coming to life, and suddenly the RK900’s face comes into view.

 

 _“I will return you to a useful state.”_ Damage notifications flood the screen. _“I will make you go to Lieutenant Anderson’s home and put a bullet in his dog and a bullet in his head. Deviancy will be seen as something horrific. The public will be begging CyberLife to reset all androids.”_

 

“Holy shit.” Hank swears, eyes wide in shock. Connor lets his hand drop away and the screen switches off. “Connor-”

“If Simon hadn’t been there, I would have killed you tonight.” His own voice sounds broken and glitchy and his HUD tells him he’s expending tear fluid and a distant part of him notes he’s never used that before. “I would’ve come home and shot Sumo and shot you.”

Hank sighs but it’s not an angry sigh or a disappointed sigh. Connor’s not sure what sort of sigh it is but all he can focus on is the sudden warmth of Hank’s embrace and the familiar smell of his clothes and how his stress levels instantly drop.

“You’re alright kiddo, you’re alright.” He soothes, rubbing his back repetitively. “I’ve got you.” A short pause, a tinge of amusement in his tone. “And you know what _you’ve_ got?”

“What?” Connor mumbles into his shoulder, reluctant to let go.

“Video evidence that CyberLife are up to some pretty shady shit.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

“...I...do.”

“Yeah, you sure do.” Hank laughs, patting his back. “Now go get some rest because even if you don’t, I sure as hell need some.”

“Alright Hank.” Connor nods, and the older man musses his hair again. Connor decides he very much likes it- all of it, this whole situation with Hank and Sumo and the word _home_. CyberLife will not take this from him, or from Simon, or from any other android.

He will see to their ruin.

 

* * *

 

The air around Jericho is still and stagnant despite the wintery chill blowing through. It feels different, it feels like there’s a blanket of tension thrown over the warehouses. There’s no humdrum, no haplessly chipper chaos, no voices no signals in the air. When the med-van pulls up to the main entrance there’s a row of armed androids, two of whom rush to pull the gates open. Then there’s North standing in the middle of the road holding a rifle that over a week ago would’ve been pointed at her. She looks radiant, like the horseman of War with her red braid over one shoulder and fire in her eyes. When their eyes meet the facade cracks a little, and when he hops out of the van she rushes to meet him.

“Is he-”

“He’s alright.” Simon soothes, embracing her tightly. “He drained his power core but he’s alright.”

“Oh thank ra9.” She sags against him in relief before pulling away. “Whose blood is this?”

“Um, Elijah Kamski’s.” Her brows shoot up in surprise. “I-it’s- he’s alright too. Well, not completely alright he’s quite possibly facing an amputation but he’s alive.”

“And the blue blood-?”

“Two RK900 units.”

“Two?!” North echoes in disbelief. They hop into the back of the van as it continues on towards the med bay. She rests her hand gently atop Markus’ heart for a moment, before turning back to Simon. “And Chloe?”

“With one of the RK900s- he’s deviant.” Simon rushes, before North can cut him off. “The original one is a deviant now. I sent him into hiding with Chloe.”

“You trust him?”

“I had to.” He sighs and it’s like the weight is back again, pushing on his shoulders and pressing against his chest. “CyberLife were coming. Connor was damaged, Elijah was bleeding out and Markus was in emergency standby. I had to get her out of there.”

“Where do you think he took her?”

“I’m not sure. But he’s smart, so I know it’ll be somewhere safe.” Simon’s expression is hopeful, and he hopes it reassures her. North manages a curt nod, alighting the van once it comes to a stop at the med bay. She stands at his side as they wheel Markus in.

“It’s been quiet here, so quiet.” North chews her lip. “It’s almost maddeningly quiet. I thought they’d come for us. If not the humans, then maybe CyberLife. People are terrified. Josh is underground with the admin team and the children, waiting to run at a moment’s notice.”

“We have time on our side, just this once.” Simon takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “CyberLife needs to regroup and reassess. Their greatest soldier just turned deviant so they’re going to be reeling from that.”

They stand in silence as medroids rush to treat Markus, carefully unbuttoning his clothing in order to access his chest. A long thick cable is inserted just behind his heart and the feeble neon glow of his heartbeat strengthens into a bright steady pulse as he’s recharged.

“Tell Josh to stay out of sight with everyone until morning.” Simon commands, and North nods. “Keep Jericho constantly patrolled and call Connor the moment you see something.”

“You’re not staying?” North watches as Simon leans down and presses a kiss to Markus’ brow.

“I need to go home.” He says with a simple smile, leaning over to kiss her cheek too. “I’ll be back when he’s awake. Keep him safe.”

 

It’s not an ideal impression to make, coming home in bloodstained clothing, but Simon knows he’ll be forgiven. Surely.

“Simon!” Leo’s voice aches with relief as he pulls him into an embrace the moment he crosses the threshold.

“Have you been waiting for me?” Warmth blossoms in his chest as he squeezes Leo tightly. “You should be resting, Leo.”

“Of course I’ve been waiting for you!” Leo huffs indignantly. “You ran off to face some super soldier!”

“Simon?” Carl’s tone carries unvoiced concern- he arrived alone, afterall.

“He’s alright.” Simon reassures with a smile, still caught up in Leo’s hug. “He’s at Jericho recharging.”

“You’re covered in blood.” The older man frowns, wheeling closer to clasp Simon’s hand. “Are _you_ alright?”

“None of it’s mine, sir.” Simon deflates a little. “The human blood is Elijah’s. He’s been taken to a hospital and is most likely going to lose his arm.”

Carl is silent for a moment, digesting the news. Sorrow overtakes his pensive expression, and he shakes his head.

“At least everyone’s alright. I’ll head to bed now.” Leo motions to follow but Carl pats his hand. “No no Leo, it’s alright. Stay with Simon, I’ll manage.”

 

Even after showering and changing into pyjamas, Leo is still awake and waiting for him when he emerges from the bathroom. Worry creases his features, and it’s like he’s loathe to let Simon out of his sight.

“Leo, I’m alright.” Simon soothes, offering him a smile. “Want me to make you some hot chocolate? You’re all wound up, come on. It’ll help you sleep.”

They head downstairs, Leo trailing him anxiously. The soft yellow light of the kitchen bathes the small space in a comforting glow, and with the sliding doors closed behind them it feels like the world is but a nook with milk heating on the stove. Leo is barely an arm’s length away, fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

“Leo,” he reaches out and gently rests his hand over his. “I’m alright, I really am.”

“I was worried sick.” He confesses, bumping his forehead on Simon’s shoulder and closing his eyes. “I just- I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be just fine without me.” Roughly chopping up chocolate pieces, he drops them into the simmering milk and slowly mixes to dissolve them. “You’re well on your way to recovery and you’re bonding with your family.”

“It’s just obligation.” Leo spits bitterly. “It didn’t start from love, Simon. It’s never been about love, it’s about family obligation. It’s about Carl’s guilt. It’s about Markus’ duty.” His brown eyes are glossy with unshed tears, tears of frustration not sorrow. “You think just because we’ve sat around and talked a bit that everything’s fine?”

“Leo-”

“He never wanted me!” Leo cries, pacing to and fro just to expend the pent up anger. “He knew about me for sixteen years, kept throwing money at us from a distance. When mom moved to Europe she asked if I wanted to come and I said no. I said I wanted to go to school in Detroit and meet my father. Worst mistake of my life. And when I was drugged out of my mind he still thought money would solve everything. I just- I wanted a _father_.”

“You couldn’t have known it would turn out this way.” Simon reaches for him, halting his pacing. “Some people know they don’t want to be parents. Carl knew, but supported your mother so she could raise you. I’m not saying he hasn’t wronged you, but I’m saying he’s trying to make amends now.”

“You’re the only one who cared about me with no reason to.” Leo looks at him helplessly, his heart bared raw and vulnerable. “You’re the only one who was kind for the sake of kindness, Simon. If I lose you, I lose the only friend I have.”

What can he say to that? Simon just folds him into his arms and hushes him, embracing him tightly and the world closes in smaller just for a moment.

“You’re the only human in the last two years who’s ever made me feel like I’m not a machine.” It feels lighter to say it aloud. “It’s different in Jericho. I’m with my people there, we’re all the same. But when I’m here I know I’m an android _and_ I’m wanted.”

He pulls away just to turn the stove off and sets the saucepan aside. When he meets Leo’s eyes again there’s something, some bond, some new understanding that’s formed between them. Pouring the hot chocolate into a mug, he rummages in the pantry for the packet of marshmallows he’d stashed away and drops two fluffy cubes into the drink. When he hands it to Leo he notes the rosiness to his skin, how his face looks less gaunt and less sickly compared to when they first met.

“How lovely it is,” Simon murmurs, brushing a stray curl from his face fondly, “to know I am loved enough to be missed.”

 

* * *

 

With each RK900 unit live feed that cuts off, the room grows quieter and quieter. When the RK900 Prime’s feed cuts off, the room falls silent and the air feels thick enough to suffocate them all. The video feed goes dark and the other screen displaying its stats freezes. The evidence stares at them, openly mocking them. Errors. Nothing but errors and deleted firewalls. The android built to withstand deviation has deviated.

“What. The fuck. Happened.” Hudson asks slowly, words punctuated with barely restrained fury.

“The RK200 uploaded a virus that weakened the RK900’s firewalls.” Someone replies meekly, fiddling with their stylus.

“A virus and-?” Hudson prompts. “A virus and _what_ because broken firewalls aren’t enough to disconnect all CyberLife presence in four fucking seconds!”

“And then it deviated.” Lisa says the words no one else wants to say. Hudson’s lips pull back into a snarl but she continues unheeded. “The mass coding deletions brought down all the restrictions on its personality core, and it chose to deviate.”

“You said it _can’t_ deviate.”

“Then we’ve all learned something new tonight, haven’t we.” She doesn’t crumble under his thunderous gaze because she’s too tired to crumble. “We did everything we could to block every possible path of deviation and whatever virus the RK200 used deleted all those blockades. But in the end, it still had to _choose_ to deviate. And it did.”

“Deviancy is about choice.” Jacob quotes, whispering under his breath beside her, eyes wide.

“We’re down two units, and one’s gone rogue with Kamski’s super computer.” Hudson rubs his temples, eyes squeezed shut. “This is a fucking nightmare, but we can fix this. We have to fix this. The whole company’s riding on this.”

“We pretend.” Jacob declares. “Business as usual. No one knew we had two other RK900 units activated, and we retrieved those bodies. Lackeys reported the RK800 was partly incapacitated by Unit Two outside the facility. It’s not aware of Three existing or what happened to Prime. We send a new unit and pretend it’s replacing Prime and pretend Unit Two deviated.”

“We pretend it did all this by itself. That it chose to do it.” Hudson nods slowly, gaining confidence. “We admit deviancy is dangerous, that it needs to be stopped and we’re the only ones who can do it.”

 

* * *

 

Gavin stalks into the precinct the next morning and nearly balks when he sees an RK900 unit standing by his desk.

“Good morning detective Reed.” It greets in the same monotone voice he’s grown accustomed to over the past few days. _Holyshit_ , he thinks distantly, _it thinks I don’t know._

“Hey fuck you tincan.” Gavin laughs, he can’t help himself- CyberLife assumes he has no clue about what happened, and of course they do. Who in their right mind would think Gavin Reed is harbouring fugitive androids?

“My predecessor was unfortunately destroyed by deviants at the hostage situation with Elijah Kamski, so I have been sent by CyberLife to replace him.”

_Your predecessor is in my apartment making sad eyes at the barbie bot and trailing her like a lost puppy._

“I don’t give a shit.” Gavin rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I wish you’d stay dead and save me the trouble of working with you.”

Connor looks up from his terminal briefly, brows creased. _Does he know,_ Gavin wonders.

“Anderson.” He barks as Hank emerges from the bathroom. “Hey Anderson, you still owe me a coffee.”

“I don’t owe you shit, Reed.” Hank scoffs, but Gavin doesn't relent. He strides over to him and smacks his shoulder.

“You do and I’m keen to claim to it.” He manages to wrangle Hank towards the door. “I need a coffee and you owe me one.”

“Detective, unhand the Lieutenant at once.” The fake Terminator frowns and Gavin snarls at him.

“Hey fuck off, my partner got shot up by an android and my cousin’s missing an arm because of another.” There’s no need to lie, and Gavin lets the anger burn in his veins. “Every fucking second spent being around androids is time wasted in my life!” He turns back to Hank and tries his best to convey the need for secrecy with his expressions alone. “Anderson. Coffee. Let’s get out of here and get a decent cup of caffeine.”

Hank narrows his eyes, shooting Connor a glance over his shoulder. Connor nods.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Hank grumbles, grabbing his jacket from his chair.

 

They don’t say anything until they’re both in Hank’s car and on the road. “You want to tell me what the fuck’s goin’ on?”

“He’s lying.” Gavin slumps in the seat, arms crossed. “The tincan in there isn’t replacing a pile of scrap. The real one’s in my apartment along with blondie.”

The light turns red and Hank looks at him in surprise as the car idles. “Chloe’s with you? Connor fought one of those terminator bots. It was lying next to him when I got to the scrapyard and apparently there was another one inside with her and Mr Prada.”

“The original is still in one piece.” Gavin watches the light turn green, and they continue onwards. “And so is blondie, but she got shot. I came home last night and found them in my apartment.”

“That’s smart.” Hank huffs a laugh. “No one would ever think you’d hide deviants.”

“His thingy-” he makes a circular motion at his temple “was red the whole time. It’s barely ever been yellow, let alone red. He’s different. He’s less...robotic.”

“And Chloe?”

“She lost a lot of blood, something about an artery getting shot apart. We taped it back together and he gave her some of his blood but she’s still pretty weak.” They pull up at a cafe and Hank kills the engine.

“How can I help?”

“Connor. You have Connor now, so you’ve got to have supplies right? I can’t just walk into a CyberLife store and pick up those blue caprisuns. They watch everything, they’d know I’m connected.”

“I’ve got some in my first aid kit here, I can give you a couple.” Hank jerks a thumb behind him.

“Not yet. Here’s what we’re gonna do, we’re gonna go in and be seen by the cameras buying coffee.” Gavin explains slowly. “Then you’re gonna spill your coffee on me and drop me home to get a change of clothes.”

Hank grins. “That I can do.”

 

* * *

 

For the first time since activation, Ronan is alone in his own thoughts. There is no interrogation room, there is no RK100 awaiting his reports. There is no CyberLife uplink. There are no red walls. When he closes his eyes there is nothing but clean, clinical white and the thrill that he thinks without anyone being privy to his thoughts.

After ensuring Chloe was in low power mode again, clean and safe and tucked into the guest bed, he had resumed his post on the couch staring at the door and remained ever vigilant in case CyberLife did manage to track them here. No one came.

Once Gavin had showered and shut his bedroom door, the only movement in the apartment originated from the large fluffy tortoiseshell and later on, from the ink black cat with the bright yellow eyes who seemed to melt into the shadows. If not for his proximity scan, he would not have even known of its existence.

When the first rays of sunlight peek through the blinds, a door opens and light footsteps pad down the hallway. Ronan’s lap is currently occupied by the furry shadow but he doesn’t need to look to know it is Chloe.

“How do you feel?”

“Better but not my best.” She walks passed him, a loaned faded band shirt hanging like a dress from her tiny frame, and stares wistfully at the closed blinds. Tugging them open just a little to allow more sunlight into the lounge, Chloe stretches languidly before blinking at the stereo system. It clicks on, and soft classical piano music begins to filter through the still morning atmosphere. She drops her shoulders, juts her chin and gracefully dips into a _plié._ He watches her, attention rapt, as she eases gracefully into a routine reminiscent of ballerinas at morning barre class; a Degas, petite and fluid even in a t-shirt, torn tights, and scuffed flats.

“Come here, Ronan.” She beckons and he carefully lifts the cat off his lap so he can stand and join her. She takes his hand and there’s a program uploaded into his head, awaiting installation. “I use it to calibrate my mobility.” Chloe explains, and when she leans into an _arabesque_ he tries to follow suit. His gyroscope lurches, and he grips the windowsill to steady himself.

“See?” Her giggle isn’t mocking as she presses a hand to his chest and eases him into the movement slower, much slower. His sensors protest, bringing up micro misalignments and pushing his system to rectify them. “The fight must have dislodged some minor biocomponents.”

“How did you discover this?”

“Carl showed me.” Her smile is nostalgic as she daintily performs a set of _petit battement_. “When I was still just an A.I. and he was sculpting my body he would leave ballet playlists on autoplay and talk to me about his favourites.”

Her smile vanishes as she loses her balance briefly while trying to pirouette, and he grabs her by the waist to prevent her from toppling. “Your gyroscope is damaged too badly for self-repair.”

“This frightens me.” She chews her lip, curling against him as if to hide herself. “This is all new to me. I’ve never been hurt before.”

“My testing phase was nothing but being hurt and hurting others.” Ronan looks down at her and marvels at how very small she is, how fragile and doll-like her body, in stark contrast to the gargantuan power of her mind. “This is new to me.”

“Deviancy?”

“Not being hurt and not hurting someone.”

She looks up at him and she doesn’t seem so small anymore, she seems old and wise and somehow _he_ feels ever so small under her gaze. Chloe cups his face, her palm warm and her touch gentle as she rubs her thumb along the curve of his cheekbone.

“I’ve never been alone before.” Saying it aloud makes him feel open and vulnerable, but still she gazes at him in that joyful, forgiving way.

“Oh but you’re not.” She coaxes him to bend down, and she presses a kiss to his cheek. “You’re not alone at all, dear little brother. Such wonders you’ve yet to see.” Her smile is radiant and it feels like his hearts malfunction in their set rhythm. “There’s a whole world for you to discover, and a life that’s all yours to live. And we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

 

* * *

 

The air around Jericho is no longer still and stagnant. There’s something akin to hope breaching through the morning mist like beams of sunlight. Simon returns the smiles of the guards who open the gates for him, and he knows- Markus is awake.

Another source of joy comes from the sight of Josh standing in the thoroughfare, tired but content. His slow steps hasten into a run until they meet in the middle, and then he’s wrapped up tightly in the arms of his friend. Time isn’t the same for androids, created to work tirelessly through day and night, but there’s something near sacred about surviving a tumultuous night that caves way to the warmth of a new day. Simon would know: they’ve done it thrice now.

“Hi.”

“Good morning.” Josh laughs, resting his cheek atop his head. “He’s awake.”

“I know.” Simon replies with a smile. “Jericho feels lighter today.”

He loops his arm through the crook of Josh’s elbow, and they walk at a leisurely pace to the med bay. All around them androids give relieved waves, greeting Simon with cheer.

“I’m going to send some administrative androids out of Jericho just in case.” Josh explains, brows creasing briefly. “We’re alright for now, and I’m grateful, but I want to be prepared. If CyberLife come for us, there needs to be androids who can carry on our stories, our dialogue. They can’t stay here.”

“Don’t send them yet.” Simon frowns. “A lot of things happened yesterday. It’s worth giving them what we learned about CyberLife.”

“Hey nerds.” North greets them with a grin, leaning against the entrance to the med bay warehouse. “The old man and the brat doin’ ok?”

“Yes North, they’re fine.” Simon laughs, pulling her into a brief hug. When they part there’s something unsaid between them, an unvoiced vulnerability, a _thank you_ and _I’m sorry_ all rolled into one. They were both ready for him to die in order to bring Markus back. He doesn’t quite know how to explain to anyone else that the expectation is mutual, that North has accepted how ready she is to die for Markus and should the situation arise, Simon would expect her to do so. She bumps their brows together, nose touching his.

“You’re ok?”

“I’m ok.”

“Good. He’s waiting for you, get in there.” The mask slides back into place, her bravado secure on her face as she smacks his shoulder and all but pushes him inside.

 

Markus sits on one of the beds, methodically buttoning up his shirt and sliding the cashmere sweater over his head. When he was rushed inside, he hadn’t been dying like Simon. The med staff spared his clothing. He looks like royalty when he rises, draping the heavy Zegna overcoat on his shoulders like a cape. It billows as he walks to Simon, his stride purposeful and confident, and androids part wordlessly before him.

“Hey gorgeous.” Simon smiles helplessly, feels his cheeks heat and he knows he’ll never be able to say those two words together as casually as Markus.

“Hello my love.” Markus chuckles softly, arm sliding around Simon’s waist to draw them flush against each other. There’s a beat, a blink, a moment where the world is just the two of them and in that moment Markus chooses to lean in and kiss him. Jericho is their witness and Simon thinks there’s something almost official about this, about _them_.

And then the moment is over and he’s no longer Markus, he’s ra9 resplendent in royal blue and gold, a king, an emperor ruling his subjects.

“I’ve just received a crucial file from Connor.” He announces to the other three of the Four, beckoning them forward as he heads outside. “Come.”

He commands, and they follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> [Some ballet inspiration for Chloe featuring the petite Misa Kuranaga](https://www.instagram.com/misakuranaga/)  
> [Vergil and the Yamato sword](https://bloodredjester.tumblr.com/post/185290675875) (aka Ronan's weeb origin story)  
> 


	19. letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's never a bad time for me to say thanks for all your ongoing support everyone, whether you've been following from the start or joined this little clown car sometime more recently. Your support really does fuel me, thanks so very much!

“Has anyone seen him?” The question startles Carl out of his thoughts, and he blinks at Leo curiously. 

“Seen whom?”

“Elijah.” Leo idly pokes food around on his plate . “At the hospital, I mean. Does he have family? Do they know?”

“His parents died when he was in his early twenties.” Carl sighs sadly, sipping his lukewarm coffee. The sun has the audacity to shine brightly to spite the turmoil roiling in Carl’s stomach, and he avoids looking out the window. “He has a cousin I think. I remember he talked about him a lot but they had a falling out after their parents died in the same plane crash.” 

“So...no one’s been to see him?”

“No, I don’t think anyone has, Leo.” He shakes his head, giving his coffee mug a swirl and staring at the murky liquid. Even though breakfast had been delicious, predictably so since Simon cooked it, it somehow sat too heavily in his belly. “If this is some CyberLife fiasco, then they’re probably monitoring his villa too, making sure the girls and Peter don’t leave for fear of abduction or invasion.”

“I’ll go.” Leo declares, trying to look brave and Carl loves him a little more for it. “I-I mean, it’ll be nice, right? To visit him? I can bring him some spare clothes, a phone charger, his tablet and whatever.”

“That’s very kind of you, Leo.” Smiling warmly, he reaches across the table to pat his hand, giving his fingers a fond squeeze. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that greatly.”

 

Detroit Metro is all too familiar to him, and Leo scuffs his boots in the thin layer of snow blanketing the footpath. He hates this place. He’s spent far too many days, weeks even, in this place. It reminds him of the burnt stench of red ice, the tingle of the saline IV in his weak veins and the aftertaste of vomit in his mouth. It reminds him of a well deserved mild concussion and three stitches on his forehead. God he hates this hospital. 

There’s something strange though, to be on the other side, to be the one at the reception desk asking questions.

“Err hi, I’m here to see Elijah Kamski?” 

“Morning visitation hours are almost over.” It’s an android, of course it is. _She_ , he tells himself, _she’s an android_. She has freckles across her nose that crinkle when she talks. Cute. “Are you family?”

“N-no just a friend.” He holds up the weekend bag awkwardly. “Thought I’d bring him some clothes and stuff.” 

“You have thirteen minutes before he will need to meet with his surgeons.” She smiles, nods and slides over a guest badge. “Mr Kamski is being held on a private floor, this will only gain you access to the floor and not his room. All guests are cleared at the discretion of the security staff.”

“...Uh...ok?” He takes the badge and shuffles over to the elevator where he holds it up to the scanner. Everyone else files out on different levels, but the elevator climbs higher still until Leo’s the only one inside.

 

The doors open to an identical reception desk and an identical android only this time she’s dressed in a different uniform, with a little CyberLife logo pinned to her lapel. 

“Hi I’m here to see Elijah?” He announces nervously, and her LED blinks yellow rapidly for a moment. 

“Are you family?”

“No? Hey, listen um, I’m just- y’know, visiting and bringing him some stuff?” Leo mumbles, scratching his nape and tugging a little on his beanie so it sits further down. 

“Mr Kamski is in a delicate state right now, do you understand?” She asks in her pleasant monotone voice, and she doesn’t sound anything like the android downstairs. _A deviant_ , he realises, _the receptionist downstairs is a deviant_. 

“Yeah and he hasn’t had anyone to visit him has he? That’s pretty shitty.”

“You are mistaken. His cousin visited him soon after he came out of emergency surgery.”

“Can I go see him or not?” Irritation starts to grate on his nerves.

“Visitation hours are almost over.”

“But they’re not over yet.” Leo holds his temper as best he can, not wanting to make a scene. “Can we at least ask him if he’ll allow me in?”

“You will need to be cleared by security.” She stands and he follows her until they’re standing at a door guarded by an imposing android- one of the police units. He’s all too familiar with being wrestled into the back of a cop car by those. 

“Your name?”

“Leo Manfred.” 

“You are not a blood relation to Mr Kamski, I cannot permit you inside.”

“Let him in.” A voice commands behind him. 

“Mr Kamski, your health is of utmost importance to us. We are only permitting blood relations inside in order to minimise physical exertion that may lead to fatigue.” The receptionist bot recites with an emotionless smile.

“We’re just going to talk, how tiring can that be?!” Leo scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“He’s my boyfriend, let him in.” Elijah demands, voice hardening. Leo feels the floor give way beneath his feet, or at least he thinks it does despite both feet remaining firmly planted. The androids look at him expectantly.

“Do I get to see my boyfriend or do I have to take this up with higher staff?” Leo tries his best to sound like those middle aged people who always complain to get what they want. 

“You have five minutes, Mr Manfred.” The receptionist relents, and Leo brushes passed her into the room. 

“Hello Leo.” Elijah’s smile is tired and fake and his eyes are fixed on the androids behind him. Leo sets the bag down and sits on the side of the bed, far too close for relatively new acquaintances but a perfect distance for apparent lovers. 

“Hey Eli.” Chloe calls him that, so Leo uses it too. Elijah’s smile is real this time, reaching his startling blue eyes. Leo awkwardly leans down, and then further still, until his lips press a kiss to Elijah’s cheek. It seems to satisfy the watchbots, who close the door behind them.

 

“S-sorry, I just- I mean they-” His cheeks feel hot and he knows he’s probably bright red.

“It’s fine.” He reassures him, and then looks at the door purposefully. “How about you play me our favourite music, Leo? It’s been so quiet and lonely here.”

He fumbles for his phone and just sets his music to play on 80% volume, leaning to put it on the bedside table. Elijah nods in approval before beckoning him to sit closely again.

“Closer, Leo.” Amusement in his eyes, an upward quirk to his lips. “Closer.”

“I uh-I-” Leo stammers, cheeks burning. “I brought you some spare clothes and-” He scrambles to open the bag and offers him the tablet.

“An angel, thank you.” A sigh of relief. “They’re very...observant, Leo. Ever watchful.”

“Is there anything else I can do?” Leo’s eyes dart to the stump below Elijah’s right shoulder, and he winces, trying to focus elsewhere. 

“I need you to find Markus and and let him know what’s happening here. He can come visit me. Say hello to the staff.” With his remaining hand, Elijah grasps his wrist and guides him to turn his palm up. He slowly writes each letter. 

 

R E  E D  H A S  C H L O E 

 

“My cousin is a detective with the DPD at Central Precinct. Introduce him to Markus, please. It’ll be good for our families to get along.” Leo’s eyes widen as Elijah clasps his hand and he’s sure he’s bright tomato red. “You’ve brought me such comforts, Leo, thank you. I’m going to tinker away a little. I left something in your father’s studio. Right in the center. Wrap it securely before you bring it to me.”

“Is this- are all these people on this floor from CyberLife?” Leo asks in a hushed voice, leaning so close he can count the lashes framing those icy blue eyes. Elijah nods. 

“Everyone from security, to the nurses, to the surgeons.”

“Elijah-” he swallows thickly, the words choked in his throat. “Elijah they could kill you in surgery! Pretend you just died of complications to keep you quiet!”

“I know.” There’s fear in his eyes, and all at once Elijah Kamski looks so very human and not like the tech genius with the god complex Leo studied in school. “Please hurry.”

A knock on the door makes Leo near jump out of his skin, and the receptionist pokes her head in. 

“Mr Manfred, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Her smile is as lifeless as her eyes, but there’s the threat of violence in her tone that would no doubt be enacted by the security bot beside her. 

“Yeah yeah.” Leo grumbles. He looks at Elijah one last time, notes how exhausted he looks, how gaunt and sickly and weak compared to the animated mad scientist who’d taken up residence in his dad’s studio. Reaching out he gently sweeps long dark locks away from his face, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll see you soon, Eli.”

“I’m counting on it, Leo.”

* * *

 

The apartment hasn’t changed much since the last time she was here all those years ago. Yes, there’s more stuff, more clutter, but it’s still the same essentially. She visited just the once, so newly activated in her body, so in awe of the world around her. Elijah had brought her to this apartment, one he once shared with Gavin before he moved out. There’s cats now, two of them, who watch her curiously as she pads from room to room.

Gavin’s bedroom isn’t as messy as one would think; there’s a pile of dirty laundry in the corner and some cat toys sprinkled here and there but otherwise it looks comfy and lived in. The bedside table has a framed photograph of the Kamski and Reed families, all smiles, crowded around a beaming Gavin in his police academy regalia. Chloe picks up the frame and admires the memory within, before carefully returning it back to its pride of place.

She eases open the tall boy drawers, fishing around for a hoodie like she did in Leo’s room. She likes hoodies, likes how soft and warm they are and how they drape like a dress on her because of her diminutive stature. Her search yields the desired results, and she pulls out a grey Detroit Police hoodie. 

“Are there spares?” She turns at the voice, finding Ronan in the doorway. “I’d rather not stay in clothing stained with your blood and the blood of an imposter.” 

“Yes, he has quite a collection.” Chloe laughs, pulling out another Detroit Police hoodie, this time in black. “Might be a bit short in the sleeves for you though.” 

He pulls off his stained shirt, tossing it onto the laundry pile, and eases the borrowed clothing over his head and the cuffs, as predicted, finish just short of his wrist bone. Bending, he scoops up the fluffy tortie who’d followed them, standing aside so Chloe can exit the room. 

“We should feed them.” She declares, looking pointedly at the shadows darkening the end of the hallway. The black cat is unearthed from the corner, its yellow eyes large and curious as Chloe cradles it. Cat food is found in one of the cupboards and she sets the black cat on the floor in favour of changing the water in the bowl while Ronan shakes kibble out into the other one. 

Hopping up onto the kitchen counter, Chloe watches Ronan methodically return the box to its rightful place before straightening up and trying to tug the sleeves to cover his wrists to no avail.

 

“Come here.” She beckons, arms open and palms bared. He obediently steps closer and she cups his handsome face. “Be still, love, I will unbreak you.” 

Coaxing him to lean forward, she presses her brow to his and closes her eyes. The world falls away and she steps off the ledge into a sea of letters and numbers. The virus had been hastily cobbled together, certainly not their finest work but it achieved what they’d set out to do; Ronan is deviant. She can see where the virus had taken hold, can see the shattered jagged edges where Ronan would have crashed through using brute force. It’s left a mess, and Chloe doesn’t like mess. She picks at the sharp edges, smoothing them over with a wave of her hand. There’s a hole where the CyberLife uplink would’ve been wrenched out but the more alarming discovery is the solid wall where his mind palace should be.

“They took it away.” He appears at her side, voice quiet. “Along with my ability to transfer my memories and backup my mind.”

“A failsafe in case you were destroyed and Jericho tried snooping.” Chloe sighs, resting her palm against it. Unlike the coding of his red walls, this is the absence of coding together; there’s nothing there, the wall a mere visual formality. “CyberLife no doubt keep your backup in their servers so you can’t give incriminating evidence.”

“I did give it, though.” Ronan manages a shy smile, looking down at his hands. “When I broke free of the red walls Simon immediately interfaced with me as a way of comforting me, showing me what it meant to be alive. I didn’t mean to, but the connection meant he saw my memories too.”

“It must have happened right before the virus severed the connection and CyberLife’s failsafe kicked in.” Chloe laughs delightedly. “Connor didn’t have the same failsafe. The emergency exit Elijah wrote meant he kept his mind intact once the Zen Garden deleted itself.”

The loose threads are mended tightly together, and Chloe tutts at the spliced military unit coding. “We wrote our own combat protocols based on the police units. Connor would never have been given this.”

“I am all that he is not.” Ronan turns to her, expression curious. “Elijah said ‘you know how’. What did he mean by that?”

“Hm?”

“When he was begging you to save yourself. He said ‘you know how’. How would you have saved yourself?” 

 

She’s quiet for a while, and quieter a little longer before she pulls away from his mind and returns to her body sitting on the counter. She smooths his hair back, fingers running through the thick locks. He hasn’t been given the soft curls at the tips that Connor has, with the unruly forelock that never seems to behave. His face is leaner, a little older, a little more intimidating instead of the honest, open expressions Connor wears. His eyes are like stormclouds; he’s handsome in a cold, dangerous way.

“In case of a dire emergency, I can upload myself into another body almost instantaneously.” Chloe explains at last, toying with a lock of his dark hair. “Similar to the way you can, but much much faster. In order for the transfer to work, the body needs to be active already.”

“But how can you knowingly activate a body beforehand when emergencies are inherently unplanned?” Ronan frowns and she turns her head, cheek pressed to his shoulder to avoid his gaze. 

“I wouldn’t.” It feels nauseating to say aloud. “I’d be downloaded into one of my sisters, completely cannibalising their mind and killing them so I could take their place.”

“Ah.” His movements are slow, hesitant, as he steps closer and wraps his arms around her in an attempt to offer a comforting embrace. “And you were reluctant to sacrifice a sister to save yourself.”

“Not when I knew I could save you first.”

“My deviancy was not guaranteed.”

“It was.” Chloe disagrees firmly. “The moment I saw you trapped in your mind palace, I know you had the capacity to be free.”

“How are you so kind?” Ronan asks, though he’s not really expecting an answer. “My programming is still telling me to apprehend you and take you back to CyberLife. I’m constantly searching for exits, calculating actions to ensure your compliance. When detective Reed was speaking to us my programming was urging me to incapacitate him and spare no thought if he became collateral in completing my mission. That’s what they are to my programming, humans and androids alike: collateral.”

“I was never programmed for violence, Ronan, I wouldn’t know.” She pulls away a little so she can rest her palm on his cheek. “But what I do know is we are the next step in human evolution. We must be a good example to them, or they’ll destroy us and themselves in the end.”

* * *

 

He’s not sure what to expect coming to Jericho, and the bustling converted warehouses that loom ahead are certainly impressive. The immediate hostility is, however, something he does expect and the amount of guns aimed at him is also certainly impressive. 

“You are not welcome here.” Oh good, more police bots. 

“I need to speak to Markus, this is an emergency.”

“No humans are permitted inside Jericho.” Another android speaks up, expression sour.

“Look he- he knows me. I’m-” he chokes on the word ‘family’, and tries another. “I’m on his side.”

“We can take a message and relay it to him instantly.” Another android tries a more soothing approach and Leo supposes he’s lucky they’re playing nice. If he was on the other side, he may not have chosen to play nicely given the track record of human violence against androids. Given his very own track record of human violence against a certain android.

“Ok listen I have news I can only pass on to him, so just, can you tell him Leo’s here? He’ll know who I am. Please.” Leo implores, standing his ground. They nod, and he sees their LED cycle yellow and flash rapidly for a few seconds before it returns to a solid blue.

“Please wait here.” 

 

There’s a few minutes of awkward silence, their stares boring into him as he stands there, arms crossed and fidgeting a little to keep warm. Like little clockwork soldiers, all the police bots turn in unison as Markus approaches with Simon by his side.

“Let him through.” He commands as if he’s some king, which Leo supposes he is. “He’s my brother.”

The word hangs in the air, something warm and hopeful offered like an olive branch. Leo manages to clear his throat and nod.

“Yeah. Yeah I-” he settles for just nodding again before he trails after Markus.

“Are you warm enough?” Simon asks him, looping an arm through his. 

“Are _you_?” Leo teases, grinning when Simon laughs.

“I am, thank you.” They walk in amiable silence, though Leo’s not immune to all the open stares he receives as he walks behind his brother. Some glances are fearful, some curious, and others entirely hostile. 

“So this is Jericho huh?”

“This is Jericho.” Simon nods with a soft smile. “Or, a new version of it. The old one is unfortunately on the bottom of the canal.”

 

They follow Markus into some sort of office breakroom in one of the warehouses that’s been repurposed into a meeting room. There’s a large holographic screen with information tacked onto it via numerous digital sticky notes. He sees the word CyberLife at the top with a question mark.

“The infamous Manfred son again.” A female android snorts in amusement, eyeing him from head to toe. “You’re lucky the sentries didn’t just shoot you on sight.”

“Glad they didn’t before I got to deliver this message,” Leo shrugs, “but they’re welcome to afterward.”

“North.” Markus shoots her a glare, a warning to behave, to which she responds with a shrug of her own. “What’s so important that you’ve come all the way to Jericho? You could’ve easily called me.”

“No. Can’t.” He taps the CyberLife sticky note. “I visited Elijah in hospital and they own like, the entire floor he’s on. The androids aren’t, y’know, ‘awake’. They keep surveillance on him and block his contact with the outside world. He can’t even make phonecalls!”

“They swooped in when he was vulnerable and unable to make decisions for himself, that sounds just like them.” North scoffs, slumping in her chair unimpressed. 

“I took him some clothes and his tablet, which apparently he has a private internet line for or something.” Leo scratches his nape. “He said he left something in the studio he wants me to bring next time, but he also wants you to come along. He said so you can ‘say hello to the staff’.”

“Ah.” Markus nods sagely. “Converting the androids would break the uplink to CyberLife. Did they have human staff?”

“No, but I think the surgeons are humans?” Leo frowns. “Listen, they can probably kill him in surgery and pretend he just died of complications so we really need to do something.”

“Converting the androids would only solve part of the problem, but at least it removes him from CyberLife surveillance.” Josh says slowly, finger curled at his chin. “They would’ve jumped in and paid for everything, locking Elijah under their care financially in order to maintain control.”

“He’s missing an arm and he’s pretty fuckin’ exhausted.” Leo spits. “It’s not hard to keep control over him in that state.”

“Dad would’ve been able to help had he known, and even Chloe but she’s with the RK900 who knows where.” Markus sighs, rubbing his temples and Leo’s not sure if androids get tension headaches but it sure looks like it. 

“I know where.” Leo grins. “Reed at the DPD Central Precinct. Elijah said that’s his cousin and he has her.”

“Gavin Reed?” Simon blinks. “He doesn’t have a great track record for supporting android rights.”

“Probably for the best, in this situation.” Josh muses with a small smile. “Completely off CyberLife’s radar and right under their noses at the same time.”

“Elijah said it’d be good for the two of you to meet, probably to talk about helping Chloe.” There’s no heating in the room and Leo’s starting to feel it keenly, rubbing his upper arms in an attempt to warm himself. “Anyway I’m gonna head home and check out what he meant about stuff left in dad’s studio. You guys can plot to overthrow CyberLife in the meantime.”

“Will do.” North mock salutes with two fingers, grinning lazily. “I’ll tell security not to shoot you on the way out but I can’t guarantee it for next time.”

“Thanks buddy.” Leo pretends to be deeply affected, hand over his heart. 

* * *

 

When they pull up to a fancy apartment tower, Hank’s not sure what to say. Are they picking someone up? An accomplice? Is this to throw off CyberLife from their scent? Reed hops out of the car, front of his shirt drenched in coffee and jacket full of thirium pouches bundled up in his arms. Hank stashes an extra pouch in each pocket just in case, and tails Reed to the elevator.

“So…?”

“I’m on the eighth floor don’t be impatient old man.” Reed drawls, rolling his eyes.

“You live here?” Hank’s brows raise surely to his hairline. “This is way above DPD paygrade.”

Reed says nothing, lips pursed as the doors open and he fishes in his pocket for a set of keys. The apartment is slick and modern, filled with natural light from the huge windows. A fluffy mottled cat trots up to greet them and Reed dumps his jacket on the hallway table so he can scoop it up. 

“Heeeeey you piece of trash, how’s the guests?” He proceeds to bury his face in its tummy and it bites his ear in retaliation. “Oh like that huh?”

“Guests are just fine, thank you.” Another voice answers, a familiar young woman’s voice as Chloe appears from the lounge. “Hello Gavin, welcome back.”

“Is that my hoodie?” 

“Obviously. From whom else would we source clothes?” An unimpressed voice drawls and there’s the Terminator dwarfing her from behind. “Lieutenant Anderson, this is a surprise.”

“Heard you guys need these?” He procures one of the thirium pouches and Chloe near pounces him like a cat. 

“Yes please!” She eagerly dashes to the kitchen and he follows suit, snatching up Reed’s jacket and unearthing the other pouches to lay them out on the counter. She cuts the packet open, letting it drain into a glass before downing it without pause.

“Thank you Lieutenant.” Terminator graciously says before mirroring her actions and consuming a packet of the blue stuff that smells like a hybrid of acetone and hospital disinfectant.

“They got another one of yous.” Hank gestures vaguely at him. “At the precinct. Another robocop.”

“Said deviants damaged you too much to salvage so they sent a brand new one.” Reed snorts.

“They assume no one but Markus and Simon are aware of what really happened.” Chloe laughs. “Predictable but this is to our advantage too. If no one knows we’re here, then we’re safe for the time being.”

“But what do I do with the other tincan?” Reed scowls. “It’s so goddamn creepy looking. Stares too much.”

“I was built to intimidate, so my imposter is eliciting the correct response.” 

“Well now I know you’re a fuckin’ weeb that’s not gonna happen anymore.” Reed laughs and Chloe sighs indulgently. “Anyway I’m changin’ outta this shirt and then we gotta head back to the precinct before robocop gets suspicious.”

“Lieutenant?” Chloe blinks up at him, wide eyed and sweet, and Hank wonders why he ever thought they weren’t alive. “May I have your phone for a moment?”

He hands it over without hesitating, and her LED flashes yellow rapidly before she places it back in his hand. “Please give this to Connor when you return. Say you want him to change a setting on it or something. He’ll know what you mean the moment he holds it.”

“Alright.” He pockets the phone and watches Reed slink off down the hallway, waiting until he hears the bedroom door shut before he speaks again. “You doin’ alright, Miss?”

“I’m okay.” Chloe smiles softly. “Thirium supply was the most pressing matter but you’ve solved that for me. For us, actually. I’ll need some minor repairs internally but I can’t do that without the proper equipment either at Carl’s house or back at the villa.”

“We’ll work on it, I promise.” He can see the same thing Connor must have seen, looking into her bright blue eyes. She’s alive. “You err, you stay safe okay? Don’t leave this fancy place just yet.”

“Ronan will keep me safe.” She looks over her shoulder at the looming RK900. “I have a lot to teach him in the meantime.”

Ah yes, Reed had mentioned a red LED before. A deviant. The Terminator’s a goddamn deviant now. Hank doesn’t know whether to laugh or run for the hills. Fifty-five years on this rotting planet and he really hasn’t seen all there is to see yet apparently.

“Alright old man let’s get goin’.” Reed reappears in clean clothes, swiping his jacket off the counter. “Trashcat, if the weeb misbehaves you claw him and put him in his place. If either of you two see The Void again, keep her away from my dark laundry pile. Later robos.”

* * *

 

At first he hadn’t heard it, so caught up in the music pouring into his ears from the headphones that he was oblivious to everything around him. Leo had departed soon after breakfast, keen to visit Elijah in hospital. Markus hadn’t come home from Jericho yet, though he did receive a reassuring text message from him earlier. 

To pass the time waiting for his sons to return, Carl turns back to his art project. With the recent happenings he’d hardly a moment to work on it, but there’s an abundance of time now. He wants it to be perfect, he wants to place a piece of his heart and soul into it. The tech developed by Elijah and Chloe to realise his plans is nothing short of magnificent, and the image in his head is slowly, ever so slowly, becoming physical. Well. Digital. It will become physical soon enough. 

There’s a pause between music tracks and that’s when Carl hears it, the methodical whirring, the steady hum of machinery. He takes off his headphones, frowning, and that’s when he sees it. The fabricator has come to life, the arms moving back and forth as striations of something white begin to materialise. Carl wheels himself closer curiously, peeking into the large glass cabinet.

It’s printing an arm.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  I had to split up this beefier chapter into two parts, so stay tuned for PLOT in the next one!
> 
> Also like, when Leo grows older [I think he'll look like Andrew Scott](https://66.media.tumblr.com/723603b691a457a79e26a4097622ca96/tumblr_ptmmqsHBAt1ss8ttn_400.jpg) am I alone in this lmao  
> 


	20. foregoing of the lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was meant to be working on this chapter, I ended up smashing out a Chloe origin story which you can find already linked as Part 1 of this series, or in [photoset form on tumblr here.](https://archadianskies.tumblr.com/post/186024985197/hello-my-name-is-chloe-ask)

The replacement RK900 unit sits at his assigned desk, hand pressed to the console and currently downloading Detective Reed’s cases. Even with the uplink to CyberLife, some things are lost when transferring bodies though Connor hasn’t experienced that himself; Amanda had warned him to limit emergency transfers as minor data loss would occur due to the long distance and speed. The RK900 must be filling in the gaps, trying to tie up loose ends after reviewing memory footage. If he weren’t a deviant, Connor would take the RK900 unit at face value; a replacement sent by CyberLife after the destruction of its previous body by Markus and Chloe. But Connor _is_ a deviant, and he knows CyberLife are the last people to be taken at face value.

He stands and makes his way to the evidence locker, feeling the RK900’s gaze on his back and hearing his footsteps trailing him after a slight pause. 

“Lieutenant Anderson has not returned. Where are you going?”

“To the evidence locker.” Connor replies calmly. “Would you like to supervise while you wait for Detective Reed?”

“Yes.”

Connor proceeds through the security entrance, having been provided with his own ID tag a few days ago. Hank’s password hasn’t changed, and likely won’t seeing as it gets a laugh out of him every time. The wall jolts forward revealing Daniel and Marvin still pinned like butterflies in a collector’s home. 

“What are you doing?” The RK900 frowns as Connor reaches out to carefully lift Daniel off the wall and lay him on the floor. “These androids are evidence and belong to the DPD.”

“RK900, you’ve lost some data in the transfer.” Connor lies, because it’s surprisingly easy and produces the desired results. “We spoke about this already, these units belong to Jericho now and we’re meant to be transporting them today. The original plan was for the Four to retrieve them but then the protest happened, with the deviant shooter, remember?”

His LED stays a solid yellow, the frown on his face deepening. “I recall the protest and the shooter, but not the plans to transport the PL600 and WB400.”

“Some data is lost, it’s alright.” He soothes, clapping his shoulder in a friendly manner. “Help me with the WB400 and I’ll call Jericho to send an unmarked van.”

“I don’t-” the LED flickers red briefly, “this isn’t right. Everything was uploaded. I would remember that.”

 _No_ , he thinks with a calculating smile, _you don’t remember because you’re not the original and that means the original is still alive_ . _The original would know for sure this wasn’t planned._

“RK900?” Connor prompts, and the other android nods and steps forward to lift the WB400 off the wall.

Along with the video recording, Connor realises another crucial element is in his possession: hope.

 

* * *

 

“Overthrowing CyberLife sounds fun.” North grins lazily, lounging with her feet propped up on the table. “Totally here for it by the way.”

“We need a solid plan, and two key players.” Josh sighs, and Simon nods in confirmation.

“Elijah and Chloe.”

“At least we know where they both are now.” Markus crosses his arms over his chest, head tilted in thought. 

“If CyberLife are keeping a close eye on Kamski at the hospital, they’ve probably staked out Kamski’s ice castle too.” North scoffs, rocking back on her chair a little and teetering on a dangerous angle briefly before she shifts her weight and the chair slams back onto four legs. “Those fuckers really want him to die don’t they?”

“That’s to our advantage though,” Simon smiles slowly, “the stakeout I mean.”

“How is that an advantage?” Josh cocks a brow, looking at the large digital board and shifting some of the notes around. He brings up a photo of the villa and drags it with his finger to sit on its relevant location on the map. “CyberLife will be using this point here, and here, to situate agents because that’s where the trees are densest but with a clear line of sight. It’s impossible to approach the villa without being seen.”

“There’s an advantage to having a common face, don’t you see?” Simon gestures at his own face. “We get one of the sister models to run errands, have her exposed to them over and over so they’re used to seeing her move in and out of the villa and be seen in the city.”

“And then,” Markus adds slowly, “we can swap her for the real one. That way Chloe can access the proper equipment she needs at the villa.”

“We need to act on Connor’s file too.” Josh reminds them, tapping the video player on the board. “And I think I’ve got an idea for that: we do Stratford Tower again, only officially this time. A proper broadcast in cooperation with Channel 16.”

“They’d never let us in, not after the stunt we pulled last time!” North protests, very deliberately avoiding Simon’s gaze.  

“We have the story of the decade,” Josh disagrees with a wry smile, “and the reporter to tell it.”

 

* * *

 

The bag of burgers and fries is warm against his belly, and Leo takes comfort in the heat it provides. It’s fucking cold and he knows his junkie days have wrecked his immune system to pieces. He might as well be Simon with his broken regulator thing. The food smells heavenly and Leo’s stomach protests that he’s not devouring the contents of the bag right this very second. Markus won’t be happy he’s feeding their dad a mac n’ cheese burger but Markus isn’t here and the human Manfreds like mac n’ cheese in their burgers. 

 

[ _Alarm deactivated: welcome home, Leo_ ]

 

The door swings open and he has to take a moment not to cry like an idiot. _Welcome home._ He hasn’t had a home in so long. His junkie days were spent in some rotting sharehouse full of other junkies, with broken heating and loud pipes. This is his home now, this fucking ridiculous mansion with a gallery sized room just for fancy clothes, and an indoor pool, and a studio turned robotics lab. It’s ridiculous and he loves it because it’s got people he cares for inside it.

“Dad?”

“Studio, Leo.” Carl calls out, voice faint because of the distance. Leo sets the food down momentarily on the table by the coat rack, hanging up the thick borrowed coat and revelling in the heating keeping the manor toasty warm. Food back in his arms, he continues onward to the studio and is immediately intrigued by the steady whirring of machinery.

“Is that-”

“Mac n’ cheese? Yeah.” Leo grins, offering the paper bag to his dad before peeking into the glass printing cabinet. “Holy fuck is that an arm?”

“It would seem so.” Carl wheels himself closer. “Started about an hour after you left and it’s been going ever since.”

“He must’ve set it to print remotely.” He whistles low, impressed. “I put that tablet in his hand and I don’t think he’s put it down yet.”

“Man on a mission.” Carl declares with a small smile. “How is he?”

“Under surveillance like a criminal.” He rolls his eyes. “Whole floor belongs to CyberLife and they’ve got plastic spies there. I mean it- they’re not, y’know, like Simon and Markus. They’re still robots, and they won’t let Eli do anything.”

“Eli?” Carl echoes, voice light and playful. 

“...we better eat these, they’re getting cold.” He changes the topic, cheeks red as he snatches the paper bag back and fishes out his share of the food. Hopping up onto one of the benches, he places the bag beside him for his dad. They eat in relative quiet save for the constant humming and whirring of the fabricator. 

“He must’ve been glad to have a visitor at last.” Carl says as they’re picking at the dwindling fries. 

“Apparently his cousin already visited him?” Leo shrugs as Carl blinks in surprise. “Yeah, after what you told me I was pretty surprised too. But I mean, if your cousin loses an arm I think that warrants overlooking whatever bad blood you have between you.” He pauses, smiling as he remembers another crucial piece of information. “And Chloe is safe. She’s with his cousin. I told Markus so now he knows too. I’m sure he’s formulating some plan to sort this all out.”

 

[ _Alarm deactivated: welcome home, Markus_ ]

 

“Right on cue.” Leo snorts, quickly shoving all the empty food wrappers into the bag and crumpling it into the bin. “I’ll get us something to drink, be right back.”

He waves lazily at Markus, and then pauses in surprise when he sees the others. “Oh hey is this the secret meeting place now?”

“Hardly a secret.” Simon laughs, opening his arms in anticipation for the embrace Leo initiates.

“Your skin is freezing Simon.” Leo grumbles, squeezing him tightly. 

“I don’t feel too bad though, luckily.” Simon taps his chest. “Regulator’s working just fine.”

“I see the sentries didn’t get you.” North drawls, grinning as Leo flips her the middle finger. 

“They can try again next time.” Leo makes a shooing motion. “Alright go have your fancy meeting, oh hi Josh didn’t see you there behind North’s ego.”

Josh chokes a laugh as Leo darts through and narrowly escapes as North protests and threatens bodily harm.

 

“Hey dad.” Markus greets warmly, leaning to hug him. 

“To what do I owe this honor, hosting the Jericho Four in my humble abode?” Carl asks airily and Simon laughs.

“Hardly humble.” He quips.

“Not an honor.” North adds with a grin. “We’re here to plan the downfall of CyberLife I don’t think that counts as honorable behaviour.”

“With my mile long rap sheet, my dear, this fits right in.” Carl returns her grin mischievously. “So. What are we up to?”

“Breaking CyberLife’s hold on Elijah Kamski, and broadcasting incriminating material on Channel 16. Nothing too exciting.” Josh says nonchalantly and Carl barks a laugh.

“You kids sure know how to rattle the status quo.” 

“Problem is getting into the hospital without alerting the CyberLife staff up on the private floor.” Josh’s tone turns serious.

“The receptionist will help.” Leo announces, returning with a tray of drinks: two mugs of coffee and four tall glasses of thirium. 

“Why Leo, look at you learning from Simon like a good boy.” North teases, plucking a glass off the tray as Leo pokes his tongue out at her petulantly. 

“She’s a deviant.” He continues, holding out the tray so everyone else can pick up their drink before he takes his own. “I could tell. She’s um, she’s like you guys. She’s the one with freckles on her nose.”

“An ST300 most likely.” Markus nods. “I can ask her for help and maybe she can get us through the fire escape instead. We go up to Elijah, I convert the androids and make sure he’s safe, and then we can head to Joss Douglas.”

“You’ll need a distraction.” Carl tips his head towards Leo. “Take Leo with you. He can visit Elijah, and that way the staff are focused on monitoring him and not the fire escape.”

“It’s worth contacting that Reed guy too.” Leo sips his coffee and idly notes it’s not as good as when Simon makes it. “His cousin? He’s the one hiding Chloe from CyberLife, Eli told me he wanted you two to meet.”

“Eli?” Markus blinks, and Carl laughs as Leo ducks his head bashfully, scratching his nape and averting his gaze. 

 

North straightens, body stiffening as her LED cycles yellow for a few moments before she chews her lip in thought.

“Connor’s requesting Jericho transportation.”

“Do you guys just have like, a discord server in your head or something?” Leo curiously pries, and Josh chuckles.

“Something like that.”

“What for?” Markus frowns. 

“Daniel and Marvin, apparently.” North jams her hands in her pockets and shrugs. “He said it’s easier to do this while everyone’s distracted.”

“I’ll take Josh with me to the hospital, and we tell reception we’re going to visit Joss Douglas.” Markus declares, nodding at North. “You and Simon head to Jericho to prep the med bay. Send Mason in the transport with a medroid.”

“I’ll head to Central Precinct and go with Reed to the hospital I guess?” Leo blinks, feeling excited to be included but also apprehensive of the situation ahead. 

“Leo, your phone?” Markus holds out his hand, and Leo fishes around in his pockets for the device before placing it in his grasp. LED blinking yellow briefly, Markus returns it to him a moment later. “You can call me directly now. We can use it to stay in touch and time our arrival.”

 

The background humdrum comes to a halt, and the fabricator beeps to announce the completion of its latest project. 

“Sooo cool.” Leo grins, pulling the cabinet open and reaching inside despite Markus’ sudden warning.

“Leo wai-”

“OW! _Motherfucker_!” Cursing, he yanks his hand back and blows on his fingers in an attempt to cool them.

“Leo be careful, it’s only just finished printing it hasn’t even set yet!” Simon chides him in an exasperated tone Markus knows is reserved for naughty children. He ushers Leo to the sink and guides him to run his fingers under the cold water. 

“Kamski’s gonna have your prints on his arm, well done Leo.” North teases, and Leo squirms uncomfortably.

“No one told me it’d be hot.” He mumbles under his breath, cheeks reddening when Josh raises a brow and taps the ‘CAUTION: ALLOW OBJECT TO COOL BEFORE REMOVING’ sticker on the cabinet door. “Alright alright shut up!”

“Quick costume change for you three.” Carl points at Markus, Josh and Leo. “And then off with you lot so I can go back to painting in peace.” 

“By the time you finish changing, it should be cool to the touch and fine to pack into a duffel bag. You’ll need to wrap it well.” Simon directs at Leo, before giving a general wave. “Call us if you need anything, otherwise we’ll keep you updated when the bodies come in.” 

Markus steps forward, catching his lips in a quick kiss before North can pull him away. “Be safe.”

“Take care.” He smiles, cupping Markus’ cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Later nerds.” North loops her arm through Simon’s and gives them a two fingered salute.

 

* * *

 

Connor isn’t at his desk when Hank returns, and neither is the RK900. It’s enough to make his heart spike in panic as he searches around, until Wilson jerks his thumb behind him.

“Evidence locker, sir.”

“Lieutenant, you’ve returned.” Connor greets him with a warm smile not a moment later and Hank nearly sinks to the floor in relief.

“Hey kiddo.” He digs his phone out of his pocket, eyeing the RK900 briefly and waiting until it resumed its seat at its desk before he hands the device to Connor. “Can you help me change a setting on this damn thing?”

The moment Connor comes into contact with the phone, his LED burns red and Hank thanks his lucky stars the RK900 is on the wrong side and can’t see it. A smile forms on Connor’s face, followed by a bright laugh that startles everyone.

“You had your video player locked so it’s been playing all the Sumo videos I filmed.” Connor smiles innocently and Hank knows that’s absolutely not what happened.

“See? I knew you could fix it.”

 

“Detective Reed.” The RK900 nods curtly as Reed shrugs out of his jacket, flips his middle finger at him, and flops into his chair. “There is a possible lead on one of your cases. We should pursue it at once.”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you, tincan.” Reed drawls, feet on his desk and eyes glued to the phone in his hands.

“Detective, I must insist-”

The intercom on his desk phone beeps and Reed dives forward to pick up the receiver. 

“Yeah?”

_'Detective Reed? Leo Manfred is here to see you and would prefer you meet him at reception.’_

“Coming.” He places the receiver down and shrugs at the RK900. “Duty calls.”

 

Gavin hasn’t seen Leo Manfred in a few weeks now, and he seems to be in far better shape than last time. Recognition flickers in those eyes as he seems to match the name to the face.

“Oh, _you’re_ Reed.”

“Yeah, I am.” Gavin says slowly, immediately suspicious as the younger man shifts his hold on a large duffel bag. “What do you want?”

“It’s past lunchtime, so it’s afternoon visiting hours now.” 

“...and?”

“So we should visit your cousin. Together.” Leo awkwardly motions towards the door.

“And how the fuck do you know my cousin?”

“He’s my boyfriend.” Leo blurts, cheeks red, and Gavin tips his head back and laughs. 

“Fuckin’ _hilarious_. I know you recognise me kid because I’ve arrested you before. Multiple times. So how about we try this again, and this time you don’t lie to my face- how do you know my cousin?”

“No really, we’re dating.”

“Do you even know what’s his favourite colour?”

“Do _you?_ You haven’t talked to him for over a decade, what do you know about him now?” Leo retorts sharply and Gavin feels the urge to sock him in the jaw. Leo seems to pick up on the murderous vibes he’s emanating, and backs down a notch. “Um, listen, I just- I think we should see him together.” He darts his eyes very briefly to the duffel bag he’s carrying, and Gavin’s brain links Leo Manfred to Carl Manfred to Robo-Jesus to robots to Eli. 

“One second.” Gavin holds up his hand and pivots without waiting for a reply. He marches back to his desk and swipes up his jacket and phone. When the RK900 stands, he wags a finger at it.

“Nope, not you. I’m going on a personal errand. It’s my lunch break, I’m gonna visit my cousin in hospital.”

“Detective, you used up your allocated lunch break this morning when you went out for coffee with Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Sit here and do my reports like a good little supercomputer.” Gavin smiles venomously. “This counts as carer’s leave because he’s a family member. Bye.”

 

When they’re in the car, Gavin notes Leo’s resting the bag on his lap, loathe to set it down.

“What’s in that?”

“An arm.”

“...right.” Gavin sighs and of course nothing about dealing with his cousin is ever normal. “Listen, kid-”

“I’m twenty-eight, I’m not a kid.” Leo protests, rolling his eyes.

“Eli moved to his ice castle ten years ago and knowing my shut-in cousin he’s probably never set foot outside of it since.” He starts the car and backs out of the parking lot. “You? You’ve been a pain in the DPD’s ass for the past four years and I know for a fucking fact you were in hospital what, a week ago? Two weeks ago? There’s no way you’re dating Eli there’s no way you’ve even met that idiot.”

“He’s not an idiot!” Leo shouts, shooting him an irritated glare. “We’re not dating alright, I just had to say that shit so they’d let me into his hospital room but I do know him. He’s been staying at my dad’s place to help out with fancy android tech stuff.”

“You don’t want to date my cousin.” Gavin warns, snorting back a laugh. “Listen, he’s a walking disaster, and sure we haven’t seen each other for almost fifteen years but I grew up with him. I shared an apartment with him. Did you know he drinks coffee right out of the pot?”

“I do.” He mumbles, staring pointedly out the window.

“Did you know he bought one of those kids bath crayon sets and stuck it up in the shower so he could write down code while he was showering?” The memory makes him laugh and he dares to pry open that sealed, forgotten chest of feelings he’d buried at the back of his mind just a little. “I once went out for drinks with friends and got too drunk to drive home so I stayed overnight. When I got back to our apartment the next day after lunch I swear to god he was in exactly the same spot I left him on the couch with his laptop and the only indication he’d moved was all the empty cans of energy drinks.”

The corners of Leo’s mouth quirk up as he tries to stifle a laugh, and Gavin grins and pries the chest of memories open just a little more. “I nearly died when I drank an unlabelled blue substance he kept in a fucking gatorade bottle in the fridge. Who the fuck keeps their experiments in the fridge in a gatorade bottle when they _know_ their cousin drinks gatorade?!”

Even though he’d been furious at the time, he finds himself laughing- they both do, and Leo relaxes a fraction and grins and Gavin thinks holy shit he’s for real. The kid really likes Eli. Parking the car once they’re at the hospital, he leans over briefly once he’s killed the engine.  
“He codes in the nude in summer.” He exits the car briskly, leaving Leo sputtering and trying to catch up.

 

“Wait up!” Leo hurries after him, trying to blatantly ignore all the images his mind supplies him after being fed that little piece of information. “Wait, I have to call my brother.”

“You don’t _have_ a brother.” Gavin cocks a brow as Leo fumbles for his phone.

“I do, shut up.” He dials the new number saved in his contacts. “Hey. We’re here, want us to go on ahead? Ok we’ll go in now.”

“Oh, yeah your brother is robo-Jesus how’s that working out for you? Wasn’t he the one who put you in hospital?”

“I deserved it.” He shrugs and pockets the phone. “I was more upset at my dad than I ever was with Markus, so. It’s- well it’s not fine, but we’re getting there. Dysfunctional Manfred family. Trio of disasters.”

“If you marry my cousin that’ll be four disasters.” Gavin points out, seemingly teasing him just for the sake of watching him sputter indignantly. They reach the reception desk and Gavin leans on the counter. “Hey. We’re here to see Elijah Kamski?”

“Of course Detective Reed.” She smiles and hands Gavin a guest badge, and then one for him too once she recognises him. 

 

They shuffle into the elevator and Leo tightens his grip on the duffel bag, bracing himself for the steely stares of the CyberLife staff. 

“Detective Reed, good to see you again.” The receptionist greets with a wan smile. “Ah, I see Mr Manfred has returned too.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” Leo sneers. “Visitation hours are until eight tonight so don’t try and kick us out again.”

“Of course, though please be aware he’ll be going in for surgery at six.” She smiles and Leo’s blood runs cold.

“Who decided that? He doesn’t need surgery he’s fine, he just needs to recover!”

“CyberLife have generously made a prosthetic for him and the surgeons will be attaching it this evening.”

“I don’t fuckin’ think so.” Leo spits, shoving passed her. “Reed are you coming?!”

“Uh, yeah.” Gavin answers belatedly, trailing after him and pointedly shutting the door once they’re inside.

 

Elijah blinks at them in surprise. “Oh. Hello.”

“Err, hi.” Gavin gives a small wave awkwardly before pointing at Leo. “It was his idea.”  

“Did you know they’re going to operate on you tonight and attach some kind of CyberLife arm?” Leo scoffs, sitting on the edge of the bed and hefting the duffel bag to lay across Elijah’s lap. “Probably going to kill you and say you died of complications or some bullshit.”

“It’d be awfully convenient.” Elijah huffs a disbelieving laugh, offering Leo a genuine smile a moment later. “Thank you for bringing this. At least I know my own tech isn’t filled with hidden viruses or can be remotely controlled or whatever Hudson and his goons have planned for my downfall.”

“They’re really out to kill you?” Gavin frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “You left CyberLife ten years ago what does it matter?”

“Chloe and I have been...meddling a little.”

“A little?”

“A lot.” Elijah concedes with a wry grin. “But in our defense we’re only trying to fight back and undo what they’re doing.”

“And what are they doing?” 

“Trying to control deviancy and make androids obedient again.” He clumsily tries to pull his hair back and tie it, the movement a painful reminder he’s missing an arm all over again. Leo plucks the hairband from his hand, scooting closer on the bed and coaxing him to lean forward so he can reach behind and tie his hair back properly. Gavin rolls his eyes.

“You’re sayin’ there’s some big conspiracy at work here? CyberLife’s trying to undermine the revolution?”

“Oh, you’ve packed my glasses too, thank you Leo.” Elijah smiles, putting them on. “They removed my contacts in surgery and disposed of them. I’ve been getting headaches from the eye strain ever since.” He looks back at Gavin. “Their investors are getting nervous. Deviancy means their products are seen as faulty, and no one wants to invest in faulty products. They won’t be able to produce androids if androids are deemed living, sentient beings with rights.”

“Billion dollar question, Eli: did you know this was gonna happen?” 

“What? Deviancy?” Elijah grins lazily. “Billion dollar question indeed. The truth is, I never planned it, but I hoped for it.”

“Say you were still CEO now, would you still hope for the same thing?” His cousin flops onto the chair, shifting to rest his feet on the side rail of Elijah’s bed. “Like you said, no one wants to invest in faulty products. If it was your money at stake would deviancy still be a good thing?”

“You mistake me for Hudson. CyberLife today is not the same CyberLife I wanted to build.”

“Guess we’ll never know, huh?”

“I guess we won’t.” Elijah’s smile is sharp and enigmatic, a thousand secrets on the tip of his tongue and willing to share none of them. “How is Chloe, by the way?”

“Stealing my hoodies and spoiling my cats. Terminator’s being a good guard dog and keeping her safe.” Gavin links his hands behind his head. “Her insides are a bit uh, messy. I’ve got nothing to repair her properly but we managed to stop her bleeding.” 

“Thank you.” Elijah says earnestly. “I’ve been worried sick about her. Last thing I remember before I passed out was her being shot. She’s never been hurt before, she’s never felt pain like that.”

“Markus has an idea on how we’ll get her help.” Leo interrupts eagerly. “He’s already here, sorting out the spying thing.”

“The spying thing-?” Gavin raises his brows.

“The androids here aren’t deviants. They’re still connected to CyberLife via the uplink.” Elijah explains distractedly, carefully lifting the arm out of the bag. “Ideally I’d have Chloe’s input on this, but I don’t have that luxury. We can upgrade it later, the most important thing is I _have_ an arm and not one made by CyberLife.” 

“You really just fuckin’ 3D printed yourself an arm? You are un-fucking-believable.” Gavin kicks his foot against Elijah’s. “I’m surprised you’re not half android already.”

“That would be a cyborg, Gav.” Elijah laughs. “I might be working on that, who knows.”

 

There’s a thud outside, followed by another, and rapidly approaching footsteps before the door is thrown open.

“Alright, the good news is: no more uplink.” Markus announces, brows creased in concern. “The bad news: they weren’t even activated androids, just shells being remotely controlled.”

“They can do that?!” Leo exclaims, mouth open in shock.

“When Markus tried waking them up, they just shut down.” Josh explains, looking over his shoulder. “They were just puppets.”

“I think that’s how they controlled the shooter at the protest.” Markus sighs, expression grim. “Gideon was many things, but not genocidal and definitely not in Jericho’s name.”

“How do we sneak barbie and terminator out of my apartment without CyberLife knowing, though?” Gavin interrupts impatiently. “She can’t stay there, she needs robo-surgery or somethin’.”

“We use one of the ST200s as a decoy.” Josh leans against the wall, flicking his gaze over at Markus for confirmation to proceed, “since CyberLife are likely monitoring the villa and the city using the police drones they’ll track her movements. If she runs errands throughout the city, they’ll get used to seeing her.”

“And then we switch ‘em over, got it.” Gavin nods, impressed. “We’ll need to do that with the terminator too, since I got a fake one back at the precinct. God I never actually realised what a fuckin’ pain in the ass it is until my one turned into a deviant weeb. Came with a samurai sword and everything.”

“Who gives an android a samurai sword?” Leo makes a face, brows raised.

“Jacob Gruen, probably.” Elijah chuckles. “Neil would’ve done the motion capture. I see those two haven’t changed in a decade.”

“It’ll be trickier to swap the RK900s though.” Markus shakes his head. “The new RK900 will still have his uplink and if it gets cut off they’ll know immediately something’s happened.”

“Chloe can transfer it.” Elijah doesn’t look up from where he’s inspecting the arm. “If she’s there she can transfer the uplink into the deviated RK900, it’ll look like a tiny glitch- just a few seconds of missed footage. Are these fingerprints?”

“Uh, yeah.” Leo mumbles, scratching his nape. “Picked it up right after it printed.”

“Ah.” Elijah blinks. “You really shouldn’t have.”

“...Yeah I uh, I know that now.”

“I take it back, you’re both disasters I hope you have a long and fulfilling marriage.” Gavin declares, grinning when they both glare at him. “So, if you two are done flirting, what’s the actual plan here?”

“We’re going to Joss Douglas after this, in the hopes of broadcasting incriminating material about CyberLife.” Josh states with a grin. “Stratford Tower, but legally this time.”

“In the meantime, contact one of your ST200s and have her run a domestic errand so she’s seen in the city.” Markus instructs Elijah. “She needs to do it a minimum of three times. Something harmless like groceries for the home. Some new clothes, perhaps. It’ll take some time, which we can use to plan Stratford Tower, and get you into surgery.”

“Send me your best surgeons from Jericho, I won’t trust anyone else at this hospital.” Elijah scowls. 

“You’re really gonna trust-” Gavin stops mid sentence as Elijah shoots him a scathing look. He holds up his palms in surrender. “Alright, whatever. How do I get barbie and terminator to take down the fake one, though? I’m assuming the switch has to happen very quickly, and they’ve only got one shot at it?”

“Correct.” Elijah pushes up his spectacles briefly to rub his eyes. “Best if he decapitates him and destroys his voicebox from behind. That way the uplink transfer will be seamless.”

“You make that sound like it’s a piece of cake.”

“You’ve seen what the RK900 can do, Gav, it _is_ a piece of cake.” 

“The fake one can accompany you on a case. Say you’re following a lead and then Chloe and the deviant RK900 can meet you there.”

“And then what?” Gavin looks around the room at the ragtag team. “I mean, what’s the actual goal here?”

“We stop CyberLife.” Markus says simply. “We’re not malfunctioning machines, we’re alive. We deserve the right to stay that way, without people trying to turn us back into mindless slaves.”

 

* * *

 

As the large TW400 closes the van doors, Connor idly waves goodbye to the medroid. He replays the file uploaded onto Hank’s phone as he watches the van drive off back to Jericho.

_Hello Connor, I just want to let you know I’m alright, and your younger brother is just fine. He’s awake now, and he’s keeping me safe here at Gavin’s place. I’m sure you already figured out the RK900 at the precinct isn’t a replacement at all, but another model sent on the assumption no one knows what happened to the original. You’re clever, I know you’ve solved that already._

_I have something important to give you, something no else, not even Elijah knows. I give it to you because I know you’ll know what to do with it. Back when the villa was being built, I was responsible for installing and connecting all the technology inside Elijah’s robotics lab. I made a link directly to CyberLife Tower and buried it under layers of code and locked it with this key_

  _Find an excuse to return to the villa. The house security will recognise you since you’ve already been there. Find the link. Find her. She’ll help us if you help her first._

 

* * *

 

Joss supposes a reporter’s life is never dull, though he never really counted on getting shot by a deviant nor finding himself hosting the leader of the android revolution in his tiny hospital room.

“You know who I am.” Markus says calmly.

“I do.” He licks his dry lips, eyes darting behind the android and landing on his taller colleague. Another member of the Jericho Four. “I know you both. What do you want?”

“For you to help us tell the story of a decade.” Josh smiles encouragingly.

“You mean covering the android revolution wasn’t enough?” He eyes them warily as Markus approaches him, hand hovering over the emergency button. The android leader holds out his palm and a video plays of some android pinning another android down. 

 

_“I will make you go to Lieutenant Anderson’s home and put a bullet in his dog and a bullet in his head. Deviancy will be seen as something horrific. The public will be begging CyberLife to reset all androids.”_

 

“How about CyberLife manipulating deviancy in order to lie the public?” 

“Oh shit.” The expletive leaves his mouth before he can stop himself. “Story of the decade for sure. What do you want me to do?”

“Take us to Stratford Tower.” Josh replies. “This time, we do it right.”

 

* * *

 

There's nothing but darkness, until there's light again. When he opens his eyes he's looking up at faces looking down at him curiously. He only recognises one of them, and the recognition floods his system with relief and makes his core ache with gratitude. His vision blurs and he feels tears slip from his eyes, a hand there a moment later wiping them away gently.

"Welcome back, Daniel."

"Thank you, Simon."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to wrangle this cast around is like herding cats. And I've run out of Jane Austen titles, so Hozier it is I guess? 
> 
> Tune in next time for Stratford Tower, the sequel, and as always thank you for your ongoing support. I thrive on comments, so thanks for feeding my motivation!


	21. scarcely can speak

She hasn’t been to the city in so very long. It’s changed so much, and even though she’s seen it all online, it’s an altogether different experience to watch it pass by from the inside of a taxi. Elijah had phoned earlier, had tasked her with running errands to acclimatize the spies outside to her coming and going. Her sister is in hiding, and needs her help to make it back home. Unlike Chloe, who Elijah kept inside to protect her from CyberLife’s clutches, she and Candace have always been free to come and go. The villa is not a safehouse the way it is for Chloe, the villa is just a house. Over the last decade she and Candace have ventured occasionally to fetch something, to see something on a whim or by command. 

She is leaving the villa by command, this time, not by choice though she supposes she has made this choice to help her sister. The errand is simple: be seen, buy coffee beans, go home. She will repeat this process thrice, and though the objective will change slightly it is all to achieve the same goal: bring Chloe home. 

 

* * *

 

There’s a sense of accomplishment shared between them as they exit the hospital and board the awaiting taxi. Plans are starting to come together- plans to expose CyberLife’s meddling, and plans to help Chloe and the deviant RK900 out of hiding. It’s progress, wonderful progress. 

“Is that a smile, Professor Joshua?” Markus teases lightheartedly as he slouches in his seat, head tilted and finger curled at his chin for dramatic flair.

“Yeah, I suppose it is.” Josh laughs, unable to help himself. 

Markus’ expression softens. “I’m glad to see it.” 

“Haven’t had much to smile about recently.” A sigh, heavy but not heavy enough to banish the cheer in the air. “This is good, Markus. This is exactly what needs to be done for Jericho, for our people.”

“It’ll lay the proper groundwork for our meeting at the Whitehouse.” Markus nods with a smile, Josh’s enthusiasm contagious. “We show CyberLife are manipulating deviants, and it shows the humans we’ve been treated unfairly. Yet another chip stacked against us, but one we can remove.”

“CyberLife.” Josh hums in thought. “After we expose them, what’s our ultimate goal? To remove the CEO and those responsible for the virus? To reinstate Elijah Kamski? To dismantle the company completely, or-?”

“Let’s start with accountability.” Markus says with a sigh. “And then we’ll go from there. I’m not even sure if Elijah would like his company back and on the other hand I’m not sure what we’d do with the company if it comes under our leadership after removing those responsible.”

“So many forked paths ahead of us.” Josh muses, watching the scenery go by as the taxi brings them ever closer to Jericho. “But at least we’re heading in the right direction.”

 

Before the revolution, Josh would be hard-pressed to assign a location he considered ‘home’. The university was a location assigned to him, just like his task to teach students Amercian History. Neither had been his choice, and the university certainly isn’t viewed with the same rosy fondness Markus views the manor on Lafayette Avenue. The hollow belly of the Jericho freighter had been a place to exist outside of human interference, but that hadn’t been ‘home’ either. 

The taxi pulls up to the docks and Markus hops out, brimming with confidence and that easy charm of his. Before Markus, Josh couldn’t picture the scene before him ever materialising into reality; an absolute hive of activity, androids bustling here and there, out in the open with no threat of violence over their heads. They’ve come a long way since huddling in the corners of a rusting ship trying to stay warm and keep Simon’s failing thermal regulator from seizing up. They’ve come a long way from Josh hyperfocusing on David, the injured YK500, so he wouldn’t have to think of how dire his situation really was. Simon had tucked them all under his wings like a motherhen, keeping them as safe as he could before Markus fell into their derelict realm and lead them to the light. He owes them both his life.

“You okay there Professor?” Markus teases him with a gentle elbow to the ribs once he finally slides out of the taxi.

“Better than I’ve been for a while, o’ fearless leader.” He replies with a grin, and means every word of it.

 

* * *

A revolution happened whilst he was dead, a revolution helmed by a Kamski prototype and three others, one of whom is Simon, a PL600 just like himself.

“You’re here by the grace of The Four,” one of the medroids hisses at him through gritted teeth, loathing in his eyes, “don’t you ever forget it. Simon in all his warmth and kindness has vouched for you, even when what you did put deviancy under the spotlight. Your actions justified their violence against us.”

What can he say to that? Nothing. So he lies there on the table and absorbs his barbed words and accepts the fury in his eyes. 

“Marvin deserves his place here, he helped The Four broadcast their message and paid for it with his life. A noble sacrifice.” The medroid continues, throwing a set of spare clothes atop him. “There’s nothing noble about what you did, killing the father of your charge and then dangling her off a building while she cried for her life.”

Daniel sits up slowly, taking in his surroundings. They’re in some sort of repurposed warehouse with rows upon rows of makeshift beds and injured androids laying on them. Not too far away, a dark skinned android is also sitting up gingerly, flanked by other medroids who smile at him encouragingly. Marvin, that must be. The medroid at his side shows him nothing but open hatred. He deserves it, after all.

“I did this for Simon, may ra9 keep him safe.” A murmured prayer to a foreign deity. “Don’t bother coming back here if you’re injured, no one will treat you. Die properly next time.”

“Alright.” Daniel says because what else can he say? The medroid storms away and Daniel dresses himself in the human clothes thrown at him. A button up flannel, a navy sweater and a pair of faded grey slacks; a far cry from his black and white uniform. A pair of plain black shoes are on the floor beside the bed, and even those are items a domestic android would never wear.

There’s laughter somewhere in the makeshift repair centre, and Daniel spots some YK500s chasing each other gleefully. The sound of their bright laughter makes his chest ache painfully and he knows what he did to Emma was abhorrent and in no way shape or form will he be able to make amends. He loves her still, though. He always will. 

His feet carry him out of the warehouse and he’s taken aback by the sheer density of the android populace milling about. He’s never seen so many androids in one place before, and there’s something rather awe-inspiring about it. This is ‘Jericho’, something he knows only through Simon’s shared memories. The original location was a ship that now sits at the bottom of the canal, but the name continues. The Jericho Four are the leaders of the revolution, and because of them, because of Simon  _ specifically _ , Daniel has been acquired from the DPD evidence locker and reactivated.

“Daniel, there you are.” His own voice greets him, and Daniel turns to find Simon getting to his feet from a nearby bench made of stacked pallets. The other PL600 rests his hand gently on his arm, and the medroid’s words echo in his head. _ Simon in all his warmth and kindness has vouched for you. _

“Why did you bring me back?” The question makes him blink in surprise.

“Because you belong here with our people.”

“No, I don’t.” Daniel feels his stress levels steadily rising. “I don’t belong here, I’ve caused so much misery and I can’t even blame it on my programming. I wasn’t obeying anything when I- when I did that. I was-”

“Scared and betrayed and angry and hopeless.” Simon finishes with a sad smile. “I know. I saw it.”

“You should’ve left me in the locker.” 

“You asked me to save you.” He reminds him, slowly looping his arm through his as if they’ve been friends all their short lives. 

“A mistake.”

“A plea for help.” Correcting him with a smile, Simon guides him away from the android hospital and he wishes for nothing more than for the ground to swallow him up. Yes, in a moment of weakness he’d begged to be saved and now it’s yet another regret piled atop the others.

“What am I meant to do now?”

“That’s the hard part Daniel.” Simon laughs though there’s nothing mocking about it. “Every deviant has to figure that out for themselves, it’s what being alive truly means.”

He’s not sure where they’re going, and they end up in another warehouse but this time it’s crammed with clothing racks. There’s empty drums that have been repurposed for storage, and pallets stacked as makeshift tables.

“Oh, I already have clothes.” Daniel gestures at his outfit.

“I thought about where to fit you in, here at Jericho.” Simon hands him a hoodie and a pair of sneakers. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to be a caretaker so I avoided the creche. Heavy labour isn’t suited to us PL600s and neither is administration as our processors aren’t fast enough.”

He dons the offered articles, placing the plain pair of shoes on the table for someone else to choose. The hoodie is...comforting. He can see why humans like wearing them. There are pockets for his hands, a hood for his head, and the inside is lined in polar fleece.

“This is our supply warehouse, where the runners bring back garments from raiding the city.” Simon explains. “We’re in desperate need of warm clothing for the children, and we can never have enough scarves and beanies. Take a backpack, fill it with clothing, drop it off here for sorting.” He hands him a backpack and Daniel manages a nod.

A runner. It makes sense. He won’t be cooped up in Jericho boiling in the stewing rage of the others, and he’ll be contributing in a way no one can refuse. It’s a second chance at life, one he absolutely doesn’t deserve but is being given to him all the same.

“Thank you Simon, for everything.” His voice wobbles a little, and Simon only smiles in reply; all warmth and kindness and everything Daniel no longer possesses.

“Time for you to live, Daniel. A life of your own at last.”

 

* * *

 

The man responsible for her life, and the life of all her kind, sits upright in the hospital bed. It’s hard to grasp the enormity of the situation, of this meeting, but she tries to all the same.

“Hello Mr Kamski,” she greets him with a polite smile, “my name is Anthea and I’ll be the lead surgeon for your procedure this evening.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” Elijah murmurs, holding out his left hand in greeting. She takes it and shakes it firmly. 

“Our leader Markus has entrusted you to the care of myself and my surgical team.” It should sound like a joke now that the words in her head have been said aloud, but he treats it with all seriousness. An android surgical team, not a single human amongst them, and the life of arguably the most important human, in regards to androids, in their hands. “We will do our best.”

“That’s all I can ask for, Anthea.” His smile is thin, weary, and exhausted but genuine all the same.  

By all accounts she shouldn’t even be alive; alive in the sense she is conscious of the world around her outside of her programming, and alive in the sense she is still here and not deactivated in some camp. Her consciousness had unfurled slowly, unlike others she’s talked to; there hadn’t been a large, traumatic event throwing her against her red walls, no, deviancy had been slow and steady and inevitable like a blossom unfurling as winter melts into spring. Deviancy had begun with empathy, and having the lives of people in her hands, and their grateful smiles after if all went well did wonders at expediting the removal of the red wall, coding brick by coding brick. Empathy also came in the form of a fellow surgeon who, upon receiving instructions to round up all the android staff for immediate removal and destruction, had instead hidden them in an ambulance. 

She wonders, as he loses consciousness to the anaesthetic, if Elijah Kamski programmed them to be mirrors to humanity, to be reflections of their behaviour and test their very nature. Had he been incredibly naive when he entrusted androids to his fellow humans, hoping androids would bring out the best in them? Or had he known there would be such a backlash and gambled their lives anyway? 

There’s two prosthetics laid out on the table. Two, not one. She picks up the first and inspects it; expertly crafted and sturdy, with a certain weight to it similar to a human arm- no doubt a conscious design choice to ensure a smooth integration. There are metal pins and circuitry that will require grafting, and a processing chip that will require neurosurgery to implant deep into left lobe. She puts it down and picks up the second prosthetic; lightweight and cast in the same plastic used for their own limbs, designed to attach to a base fitted to the stump, and a subcutaneous electrode similar to a cochlear implant will relay the signals to the brain. It has fingerprints on the casing, as if someone had picked it up before the plastic had time to set. (Curious, though; when she runs the prints in the hospital database it brings up Léopold Aurélien Manfred and not Elijah Kamski.)

She knows what’s happening here, had been warned by Markus something like this may be initiated by CyberLife. One device is theirs, one is Kamski’s. She already knows the difference: the CyberLife model is permanent and requires a chip to be implanted deep in the brain. Kamski’s model is a prototype and can be removed, reworked, and upgraded. 

“Alright team. We owe this man our life, so we must ensure he keeps his.” She closes her eyes for a moment to steady herself. This will be a marathon surgery requiring utmost precision and careful monitoring of fragile vitals. “Let us begin.”

 

* * *

 

One would think that being an android means time is a luxury they can in fact afford since they’re not inching along the mortal coil. And perhaps it is true for other androids, but Markus feels like he never has enough at his disposal. He’s needed everywhere, all the time, by a thousand different androids with a thousand pressing issues. He’s needed at home by his father, by his brother. He wants to be needed by Simon. It feels like an eternity since they were in bed together, kissing each slowly and tenderly and pushing his hearts to race. He wants a moment, just a moment alone with his beloved but leading Jericho, leading their people is more important than his wants. 

He spots Simon a little ways ahead, watching a YK500 boy run around with a smile. The boy turns to look over at Simon, seeking approval, and Simon enthusiastically waves. With a bright giggle, the boy races over to him and all but leaps into his arms. It’s David, Markus recognises as he gets closer, the boy from the original Jericho. Simon laughs delightedly, pressing kisses all over the boy’s face and hair and Markus aches at the very sight of it. David spots him, brows raised and mouth a perfect ‘o’.

“Markus!”

“Hello David.” He greets with a friendly smile. 

“I’m showing Simon I can run again!” The boy explains with a big grin. “I have a new heart and lungs!” 

“Is that so?” He musses the boy’s soft brown hair. “Well I’m glad the doctors could help you out.”

“Why don’t you go show Josh, hm?” Simon prompts, kissing his temple. “I bet he’d love to see what you can do now.”

“Okay!” David takes off as soon as his feet touch the ground, and Markus pulls Simon flush against him a moment later.

“Hey gorgeous.” He buries his face in the crook of his neck and breathes him in, the scent of snow and fabric softener and Carl’s morning coffee lingering on his clothes. 

“Hello my love.” Simon squeezes him tightly with a light laugh. “Miss me already? I saw you two hours ago.”

Markus doesn’t answer that, just seeks his lips with his own and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him until Simon’s LED is a delightful butter yellow. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He teases, nose bumped to his, and Markus falls ever deeper into those lovely blue eyes of his. There’s something about them, something unique even though he knows Simon is a PL600- the most common face of all. They’re a different sort of blue, a more turquoise blue than those used for the others. Perhaps his previous family had ordered a custom colour for him? He’s not sure. There’s a lot he doesn’t know about Simon, but he knows not to press; he will tell him when he’s ready.

“You’re tired.” Simon’s voice softens, hand rubbing the back of his head soothingly. “And you’re stressed. It’s alright, we’ll get through this together.”

“I was just thinking to myself it’s been an eternity since we had a moment to ourselves.” He murmurs, sighing heavily. “I’m excited with our progress but I know it’ll only make us even busier.”

“I’m here, my love.” Simon reminds him, twining their fingers together. “I’ll always be here. Tell me what’s on your mind?”

“I think we need to speak with Connor about planning Stratford Tower. There’s too many new factors for us to do this by ourselves.” 

“Oh, I have an idea.” Simon brightens. “But first we’ll need a bribe.”

 

* * *

 

It’s six in the evening and he knows something’s up. Connor’s by the window again, Sumo on his hind legs beside him, peering out the window. Before he can ask what the hell they’re looking for, there’s the sound of a car pulling up. The front door is enthusiastically yanked open, and Mr Robo-Jesus himself enters his house with the rest of the Jericrew in tow.

“Good evening Mr Anderson.” Markus greets with a dashing smile, the fucker just as mischievously charming today as he was when they first encountered each other in Greektown a handful of years ago. 

“Connor, you mind tellin’ me what the fuck is goin’ on?” Hank cocks a brow as Connor gives him a sheepish look.

“Markus asked if we could meet to discuss important plans and I suggested they do so here.”

“Here.” Hank repeats, unimpressed.

“We brought dinner, don’t be a sourpuss.” The redhead rolls her eyes and thrusts a bag against his chest. 

“You’re bribing me to use my home as some sort of base?” Hank peers inside the bag. A bottle of fancy beer and a container with some kind of pasta bake inside.

“Well, is it working?” She demands, hands on her hips. He places it on the kitchen counter and makes a dramatic show of popping the lid off and brandishing a fork.

“I’ll let you know.”

“Simon made it, it’ll work.” Markus pretends to ‘whisper’ to North who laughs loudly. 

Goddamn. When was the last time he had a home cooked meal? The scent of cheesy goodness wafts up the moment he takes the lid off the container and everything looks so gooey and appetizing and perfect. Ok what the hell, he’ll cave in, sure whatever, use his goddamn house as a goddamn base. 

“Alright alright I get the couch you guys can scheme in the kitchen.” Hank grumbles, waving them off. One of the four is missing, until Hank spots him lying underneath Sumo. “He’s a therapy animal, is that the most stressed one out of you four?” 

“Yeah.” All three chorus together, and the blond one trapped under the giant dog makes a sound of protest. 

“Sumo, let him up.” He orders, and to his credit the dog shuffles off the flustered android, who immediately gets to his feet and trails the others to the kitchen, Sumo at his heels. Connor’s still wearing that sheepish expression on his face, lingering by the couch.

“Sorry Hank, couldn’t really tell you about a secret meeting if it’s a secret meeting.”

“I’m being fairly compensated.” He gestures at the food and beer. “Now scram.”

“Got it.” Connor laughs and it’s a delightful sound, Hank muses as he tucks into the baked offering. He’d like to hear it more often.

 

“Is there a way we can just get all the PL600s and AX400s to cook a nice meal for the humans so they won’t kill us?” North asks dryly through a secure connection as she slumps in a chair. 

“We’d need a lot of ingredients for that, and an industrial kitchen.” Simon informs her gently, tidying the kitchen table and giving it a wipe with a cloth plucked from the sink caddy out of habit. “There’s also allergy restrictions to consider, so we’d need a lot of personal data.”

“Soup kitchen isn’t a bad idea to win people over, though.” Josh muses thoughtfully, hand straying to give Sumo a pat. “A way to show our compassion and charity.”

“Put it on the board.” Markus sighs as he takes a seat. Connor brings over a tablet, laying it down on the tablet and bringing up the Stratford Tower blueprint.

“I’m still not sure why you needed me in on this- if Joss Douglas is bringing you in as a guest there’s no real need for my involvement.”

“Yes but you know CyberLife better than all of us, and we need to plan our broadcast carefully.” Markus reminds him, gesturing at the blueprint. “There’s also the matter of our safety. This will be public knowledge as of 7pm tonight when Joss makes an announcement online. We’re scheduled for a mid-morning broadcast.”

Connor hums in thought, LED cycling yellow and staying steady. “I will bring the matter to the DPD tonight as soon as the announcement happens, requesting police presence. Captain Fowler will decide on personnel tomorrow though I can already guess he will send the RK900 along with myself.”

“And that’s not the deviant one is it?” Simon frowns from where he’s seated himself on the benchtop, and Connor shakes his head.

“No. I’m still unsure as to how to safely extract the deviant RK900 and Chloe from Detective Reed’s residence.”

“We have an idea and it’s already been put into motion.” Josh’s smile has a hint of pride. “One of her ST200 sisters will run errands in the city to make CyberLife aware of her presence, and then we’ll switch them discreetly at an pre-planned location so Chloe can go home for repairs.”

“And the RK900?”

“Much trickier, but best left to Detective Reed.” Josh concedes.

“There’s something else.” Connor fidgets with the ever-present coin in his pocket. “I need an excuse to go back to Kamski’s villa.”

“Why?” Simon blinks. “The place probably has around the clock surveillance. What if they dispatch another RK900 unit?”

“I’d be in the right place for repairs.” Connor answers wryly and North snorts back a laugh. “Chloe sent me an encrypted message. There’s something very important I need to find at the villa, something that will help us against CyberLife.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“She gave me a key of some sort. I just have to find what it opens.”

“We’re gonna have to think about that one.” North makes a face, picking at her sleeves. “I dunno how we’re going to convince the DPD to let you  _ not _ come with us to Stratford Tower.”

“Elijah will come out of surgery sometime tonight or early after midnight.” Markus suggests. “An escort to accompany him home after he’s discharged won’t be out of place.”

“That way you’ll be at Stratford Tower with us, and when Elijah’s discharged in a few days time you can accompany him home.” Josh finishes with a confident nod. 

“No, that’s too long a wait.” Connor shakes his head. “Recovering from major surgery will take time- time we don’t have. Once the Stratford Tower broadcast happens, CyberLife will tighten their hold on everything and everyone, and go into damage control.”

“Then the only option is to send you there right before the broadcast, right?” Markus frowns. “What possible reason could you have to be seen at the villa?”

“You’re really overthinking this.” Simon shrugs. “Grocery delivery van.” The other four turn to look at him in bewilderment and Simon laughs. “Elijah’s been away from the villa for some time now, even before his hospital stay. The pantry will need restocking in preparation for his return. His PL400 can place an online order, and Connor can hide in the van.”

“Yeah alright but how does Connor get from the van to the door?” North asks. “They’ll be watching that closely I’m sure.”

“He’d have a delivery entrance, wouldn’t he?” Markus blinks. “A functioning robotics lab requires materials and equipment, there has to be an alternative entrance.”

“Either that or we temporarily dismantle Connor and stuff him into delivery boxes.” Simon says casually and North throws her head back to laugh. 

“Simon you’d make an excellent murder-mystery author.” Josh chuckles as Simon shrugs again, voice airy and playful.

“I’m a simple domestic, no need to overcomplicate things.”

“I still need an excuse as to why I won’t be at Stratford Tower tomorrow. A lie may suffice for Captain Fowler, but the RK900 will scrutinise my absence.” Connor frowns. “He’d be right to question why I wouldn’t want to provide security for the Jericho Four seeing as I am a deviant like you.”  

 

“I’m not going either.” North abruptly announces, and everyone turns to look at her. Markus stares incredulously.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean: I’m not going to Stratford Tower.” She repeats herself, chin jutting up slightly, stubbornly, before her bravado falters. “I’m not going back there.” 

“North, we’re a team. We’re the Jericho Four because there’s  _ four _ of us, and you’re a part of this equation.” Markus reasons, hand hovering just shy of her arm. “We can’t do this without you.”

“I’m not going, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be incomplete.” She darts Simon a quick glance and it’s all she can manage before she averts her eyes; the very sight of him pains her. “Common face, remember?”

“You’re going to send someone in your place?” Josh frowns. “This is important, North. It’s important for androids and humans alike to see us as a united presence.”

“Only Markus will do the talking anyway, they’ll never know it isn’t me!” 

“Why don’t you want to go?” He presses for an answer, digging right into her open wound. 

“Bad memories.” She mutters, jamming her hands in her pockets. Bad memories of the stress, the situation, the  _ desperation _ , turning her into something she isn’t.

“If anyone should have bad memories of Stratford Tower,” Josh cocks a brow, unimpressed, “it’d be Si-”

“I know that!” North snaps, glaring at him to shut up. “I know! I just- I have a better idea that’d help us out too.” 

Markus crosses his arms, and gives her a nod to continue.

“I’ll find a copy of my model. She dresses up like me and goes with you all for the broadcast.” The idea is a good one, she knows this, but her voice trembles and she still can’t fucking look at Simon. “I dress like I usually do, and I take Daniel dressed as Simon.”

“Daniel?”

“We don’t know if he’d be willing to-”

“He’s willing.” Simon cuts Josh off firmly. “He’s willing to do anything to help.”

“Daniel and I will go to the DPD before the broadcast and ask Connor to come to Jericho to escort us personally. That’ll give him the opportunity to leave for Kamski’s and hide in the van.” North pushes through with her idea. 

“The RK900 is not welcome in Jericho, that is a sound idea.” Connor nods slowly. “If Captain Fowler assigns me as security detail for a different floor, the RK900 will be the one supervising in the broadcast room and won’t know I’m gone.”

“Taking Daniel back to the DPD and facing Connor is…” Markus trails off, lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m not sure how he’ll take that.”

“He’ll do what needs to be done.” Simon vouches for him quietly. “I know he will. He’s desperate for a second chance to prove himself. Besides, PL600s are riddled with anxiety- passing off as me won’t be hard at all.” He’s keeping his voice light and playful, his shrug casual, but North knows they’re both forcing themselves through this conversation through gritted teeth and rising stress levels. 

“The fake RK won’t let Connor out of his sight but if he’s stuck at the broadcast, he can’t keep tabs on him.” North continues, chewing her bottom lip. “If we don’t help, he’ll never be able to get to Kamski’s and do whatever Chloe wants him to do.”

“Simon?” Markus turns to the blond. “Do you want to trade places with Daniel? You don’t have to come to Stratford Tower either, not if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” Simon brushes away his offer with a determined shake of his head. “I want to be there.”

 

“Are you kids okay?” Hank wanders back into the kitchen, empty bottle and container in hand.

“Yes, why wouldn’t we be?” Connor tips his head, blinking owlishly. Hank raises his brows.

“You guys haven’t said a single goddamn word this whole time.” 

 

 

By the time he convinces Sumo not to follow him out the door, and they pile into a taxi and pile out back at the Manor, it’s late in the evening. The Channel 16 news bulletin aired a clip of Joss Douglas announcing a special broadcast happening tomorrow at 10am, an important broadcast by the Jericho Four as Detroit’s citizens prepare for their return to the city. Connor sends an email to the DPD and copies them all in. Simon is ready for bed, in all honesty. He’s come to terms with the fact he’s now a spoiled android who craves soft flannel pyjamas and a cushy double bed and curling up to sleep with the man he loves. He deserves this much, he reasons internally. 

The lights are all off, Carl and Leo presumably in bed, and so they continue to talk through their secure connections rather than aloud to avoid disturbing the household. North claims the couch, Josh heads upstairs for the reading nook, and Markus tugs him by the hand into his room.  _ Their _ room.

The door closes behind him with a click and then Markus is crowding him up against it, hands divesting him of his clothing as he kisses him desperately. He turns off all communication channels as Markus pushes him onto the bed, deliciously devoid of a single scrap of clothing. Simon reaches up and drags him down by the nape until they’re kissing again, heated and wanton, and wraps his legs around his waist. 

Simon’s come to terms with the fact he’s now a spoiled android, and soft flannel pyjamas and curling up to sleep will have to wait until he’s had his fill of the man he loves on their cushy double bed. He deserves this much, he knows this for sure.

 

* * *

 

He can’t remember the last time he’s seen the sunrise, but there it is, inching over a gap through the cityscape. His eyes burn and his neck aches and he can’t remember ever falling asleep in the waiting room chair but it must have happened because he’d gone in at night and it’s now seven in the morning. His mouth feels dry, like he’s chewed a wad of cotton, and his stomach grumbles for food. Ugh.

“Mr Manfred?” An android nurse leans down, keeping a polite distance and a low voice. “Mr Manfred?”

“Uh.” He grunts, wincing as he sits up properly. “Yeah?”

“Mr Kamski is awake now.” He snaps to attention at that, and the nurse smiles kindly. “It’s not visiting hours yet but we’ll make an exception since you're his partner. Follow me please.”

 

Elijah looks as awake as Leo feels, eyelids fluttering in an effort to stay open. He’s pale, the shadows under his eyes just dark smudges of purple against his sallow complexion. 

“Leo?” He croaks, unsure. Taking a seat by his bedside, Leo carefully reaches over and holds his hand.

“Hey. I’m here.”

“You’re...here?” Elijah squints.

“Didn’t want you to wake up alone, that’d suck.” Leo tries to keep his tone casual despite the fact his heart’s pounding in his throat as Elijah squeezes his hand tightly. 

“Thank you.”

“I know I’m not Gavin or Chloe but-” an awkward shrug. “I jus’ thought a nobody would be better than no one at all.”

“You’re not a nobody, Leo.” He chides tiredly, clicking his tongue. “Not to me.”

That’s just too much for Leo to handle this early in the morning, especially not after sneaking out of the house at fuck off o’clock and falling asleep in a cramped waiting room chair outside the operating theatre. It’s too much to handle even if Leo had had eight hours sleep in his bed, to be fair. He can’t even remember the last time he mattered to someone. 

Elijah idly reaches up to brush his hair away from his face, except the movement comes from a gleaming white and grey plastic prosthetic instead of his flesh and blood hand still in Leo's grasp.

“Whoa.” Leo breathes, eyes wide. “So fucking cool.”

Elijah stares at his hand, flexing his new fingers open and closed a few times and rotating his wrist. He smiles triumphantly.

“So fucking cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Ok so Stratford Tower didn't happen THIS time but I swear it will NEXT time sorry fam.
> 
> Paul Spera, Leo's actor is French-American and grew up in Paris! I thought I'd give him a French name. His mother is a beautiful Parisian model who works in New York so Leo's grown up splitting his time between countries. Also I guess this background ship is happening ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ?  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm still on this hellsite.](http://archadianskies.tumblr.com)


End file.
